


The One where Castiel meets Dean (and sparks fly)

by darter_blue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barista Dean, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Grad Student Castiel, Light Angst, M/M, Rimming, Romance, Smut, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-06 18:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11042091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Castiel Krushnic is helping his big brother Gabriel out by receptioning part time at his LA photography studio while he completes his PhD and crashes at Gabe's for free.Dean Winchester is an up and coming actor who hasn't quite broken into the big time (but it's surely about to happen any minute) and steps into Gabriel's studio to get headshots that might help him get there.When they meet they form an instant attraction that they both feel deserves exploring - and if it helps bring Cas out of his shell, and helps bring Dean back down to Earth, well then, who's complaining?





	1. The Studio

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just a happy rom-com fic with a tiny bit of Angst and lots of fluff. 
> 
> And smut, smut, smut (but you have to wait a couple chapters to get there).
> 
> Hopefully I can make it worth your while :)

 

Castiel Krushnic was a young man who appreciated beauty. An appreciation that had stopped him mid run that very morning to watch the burgeoning, bright orange fire of the sunrise - even though the delay had given his brother Gabriel ammunition with which to tease him about being a ‘fucking grandpa’. It was also the reason that, despite the vanity it implied, he loved the pictures of himself and his twin sister Anna, taken in a photo booth at Santa Monica Pier, that his brother had blown up and displayed on the walls around the studio. It was from their visit to Gabriel, his first year in LA, and for a couple of fresh faced thirteen year olds they had - according to Gabe - ridiculous bone structure, that simply must be put on show.

So when Dean Winchester was buzzed into the reception area of Gabriel’s downtown studio office, it would be fair to say that Castiel felt he had reached the pinnacle of his appreciation. He was sure nothing in the world could ever be more beautiful than the man making his way to Castiel’s desk.

‘Anna,’ he spoke quietly into the mouthpiece, ‘I’m going to have to call you back.’

‘Don’t you hang up on me, Cas-’ He could hear his sister yelling at him as he placed the bright red, vintage phone back into it’s cradle. So could their visitor, presumably, raising his eyebrow with equal parts curiosity and humour as he approached the desk.

Castiel fumbled slightly as he hung up the old phone and managed a polite, ‘May I help you?’ without stammering in his stupefied wonder as he stared up into the brilliant green eyes looking down at him with amusement.

‘Yes, I’m Dean.’

‘Hello, Dean.’

‘Um, I have an appointment. Eleven O’clock?’ Castiel’s blush spread across his cheeks. _You’re at work Castiel. He’s not trying to pick you up, you’re the bloody receptionist._

‘Oh yes, of course,’ Cas discreetly shook himself out of his inner monologuing, ‘Portraiture is it?’ He asked, hurriedly trying to find the appointment book under the mound of research literature he had scattered over the desk. Dean was, quite significantly, the most attractive man that Castiel had ever seen (and being inundated with gorgeous people was sort of an occupational hazard when working for Gabriel, so he’d seen his fair share), but Gabe had no big shoots scheduled for that day, so Castiel guessed that Dean must be an actor getting his head shots done.

‘Yeah,’ Dean replied, grinning wider, seemingly in response to Castiel’s flustering, ‘my agent recommended this place, said you could make me look good.’

 _I think a five year old with an instamatic could make you look good,_ Cas thought to himself and his blush intensified as Dean chuckled unabashedly. ‘I said that out loud didn’t I?’ Castiel asked, mortified.

‘You did,’ Dean confirmed with a wink and Cas gathered all his self control to quash the arousal threatening to tent his pants.

‘I apologise, that was unprofessional.’

‘S’okay, happens all the time.’ Cas raised his eyebrow at the vanity in that statement, but decided Dean could be forgiven because, well, the vanity was undoubtedly justified. It did serve, however, to humanise Dean enough for Cas to compose himself and focus on the matter at hand.

‘Can you follow me please, Dean, I’ll get you sorted out.’ Cas said, slipping into a more professional persona and gesturing Dean to follow him as he stepped out from behind his desk.

‘Sounds promising.’ Dean said flirtatiously, which Cas assumed was the manner in which Dean said everything. It seemed to be a natural state for him, another vanity perhaps, or possibly a defence mechanism. It’s a mannerism in which Castiel himself had absolutely no skill to speak of. He could see Dean, peripherally, taking in the artwork that Gabe had pridefully displayed in the hallway, including another shot of Cas and Anna, a bit older than the photobooth pictures in the reception area, this time at their brother Luke’s wedding. In it they are laughing, foreheads pressed together, blue eyes sparkling with joy after having shared a very large glass of champagne and danced like fools to Phil Collins _Groovy Kind of Love_. It was, as Gabriel was fond of saying, the mark of a great photo, to capture a moment like that and have the emotion translate so wholly to its audience.  Castiel gestured for Dean to follow him into the studio proper that they kept permanently set up for portraits and towards the stool sitting in front of the white backdrop.

‘Can I get you something to drink Dean?’ Cas asked, once he was seated. ‘Water? Coffee?’ Dean just shook his head in response. ‘Okay, I’ll go find Gabe for you. Won’t be a moment.’

‘You’re not taking the photo’s?’ Dean asked, sounding younger all of a sudden.

‘No, my brother is the photographer.’

‘That’s a shame.’ Dean said, sounding genuinely disappointed. Castiel wholeheartedly agreed.  

‘Don’t worry, he’s very good. You’re incredibly lucky actually, he wouldn’t normally do portraits, but our regular photographer is on holidays this week. Just…’ he trailed off, unsure how to accurately explain his brother to a stranger.

‘Just...?’ Dean asked, intrigued, and with some trepidation.

‘Try to follow his instructions but ignore the extraneous conversation. Gabriel can be a bit… forward.’ Dean ducked his head, blushing in response. The gesture tugged at something in Castiel and brought a smile to his face. It was so - adorable - was probably the right word.

‘Gotch-ya,’ he said, smirking as he slipped back into confident mode. Castiel could almost see the mask slip back into place. Definitely an actor then. Hopefully Gabe wouldn’t go too overboard with him.

‘So I’ll just ah… be right back, um, I mean Gabe will. Won’t be long.’ He said. Flustered again under Dean’s charming gaze. He felt Dean’s eyes on him all the way to the door and took a minute to catch his breath once he got out of view.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone shouted, ‘Cassie!’ right next to his left ear.

‘Jesus, Gabriel, are you trying to kill me?’ He stage whispered at his older brother, ‘You‘ll give me a damn heart attack one day!’

‘Not my fault you’re not paying attention, I walked right the fuck up to you and you didn’t even notice,’ Gabriel looked up into Castiel’s face with curiosity, ‘you high or something?’

‘I am not, no.’ Castiel said derisively.  ‘You’re Eleven O’clock is here.’

‘Alri-ight,’ Gabe said, pulling on the word like he didn't quite believe him.  He looked around Cas’ shoulders to peer into the studio and check out the subject. ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, looking back at Castiel and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, ‘I see what’s got you all in a tiz.’

‘I am not all in a _tiz_!’ Castiel snapped back indignantly, lowering the volume on the last word, careful to keep his voice down.

‘Mm-hmm. Whatever you say baby bro. Whatever you say.’ Gabe clearly saw through Castiel’s refutation but was willing to let it slide. Ruffling his younger brother’s feathers was a favourite pastime of Gabe’s but there was a time and a place for it that Castiel was thankful didn’t seem to be that moment. ‘Well this should be fun.’ Gabriel said lecherously as he brushed past Castiel and into Dean’s line of sight. ‘Hello handsome!’ He called out to Dean, ‘looks like my brother has you scheduled for tasteful nudity this morning!’

Castiel felt his palm slap noisily into his forehead before he leaned around the doorway, shaking his head at Gabriel’s audacity and catching Dean’s eye. He mimed pointing a gun to his head with a thumb and forefinger and pulling the trigger. Dean responded by throwing his head back with a guffaw that crinkled his eyes, scrunched his nose and lengthened the delicious line of his throat.  Gabe turned around, eyes glinting gleefully at his brother’s embarrassment and perhaps pleasantly surprised by Castiel’s attempt to run with it rather than slink away. He could almost feel the approval in Gabe’s gaze before he gave a slight wave of his hand but was interrupted by a loud, angry voice calling to him from the reception area.

‘Castiel! Get your butt out here!’ The voice was unmistakably Anna’s and he could hear the sound of her ridiculous heels on the polished cement floor. ‘You do not get to hang up on me in the middle of our conversation! We are trying to organise a friggin’ wedding babe..’ She peated off at the end of her rant as she came face to face with Castiel in the hallway, hands on hips.

‘Someone’s in trouble,’ Gabe tutted through his teeth, rolling his eyes at Anna’s drama; an action for which, quite frankly, the pot/ kettle connotations should not have escaped him. Dean sat still, perched on his chair, but looked slightly worried or perhaps confused - Castiel didn’t know him at all, to decipher which emotion that look expressed- and Anna rounded on them, taking in Gabriel and his subject, eyebrows raising at Castiel’s blush but spared no time except to grab her twin by the arm and march him back out to the reception desk. ‘Bye, Anna. Lovely to see you as always!’ Gabe called out to them.

‘Bite me!’ she called back without bothering to turn her head. Castiel glanced back and watched Dean follow him out of eyesight again. ‘He’s cute,’ Anna whispered as she caught his stare and grinned.

‘Perfect, is probably a more accurate description, I think you might find.’ Cas retorted, just as quietly. Anna’s grin only intensified as she dragged her brother back to the computer, shoving away his research in an attempt to find the keyboard buried underneath. ‘Any-way-’ Anna forced his attention back to her with a sharp click of her fingers, ‘We have zero time for sexy boys right now Cassie, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted earlier,’ Anna narrowed her eyes and Castiel blew a raspberry in return, ‘She may be an insufferable hag of a woman, but she is our mother, and she has asked us to take charge of this farce.’ Anna’s teasing tone hardened slightly and Cas could see the stress beneath the surface of her carefully constructed facade. ‘This is gonna be a shitstorm, babe.’

‘Yes, Anna.’ Cas said gently. Anna was not placated.

‘She spent a fortune on this already and now she wants to scrap it all and have it feel  “rustic” and “organic”’ She punctuates their mother’s words with angry air quotes, ‘and you promised you would help me, so bloody help me!’

‘I will, Anna,’ he crooned, with the sort of overt kindness you might use on a child about to throw a tantrum. Anna huffed her bottom lip out and pouted with petulance.

‘Then don’t hang up on me when I’m trying to order the flowers, Cassie.’

‘I’m sorry, Anna.’

‘Well, don’t be sorry, just open your email and pick the damn flowers.’  
Castiel clicked through until he found the pictures from Anna, quotes attached. She really had gone above and beyond to find all this for their mother and her fiance, and all she was asking Castiel for was to make the final decision. It was a way to remove herself from the consequences of a bad choice, if only by one degree, and he didn’t mind being a shield for Anna. They had been that for each other so many times in the past it was instinctual more than anything.

‘The babies breath and gerbera’s with twine. Very “rustic”, Anna. Very “Organic”.’ Cas mimicked Anna’s sarcastic air quoting. ‘And they are beautiful.’ He iterated softly, drawing his sister into a hug. ‘Thank you for doing all this. I’m aware that it’s entirely my fault.’

‘Yes, well,’ she said, chin tucked over his shoulder, ‘You’re lucky I love you, Cassie. And you’re lucky she’s so preoccupied with this wedding that she hasn’t had enough time to focus on you disinheriting yourself and moving in with her only other misfit son.’

‘You’re a misfit too, Anna,’

‘You’ll notice I said _son,_ Castiel. Nobody cares about my rebellion.’

‘Yes, well, I think it also makes it difficult to be angry when your only daughter is as brilliant and talented as you, Banana.’ Castiel said, pulling back to look into her eyes. She smiled with delight at the compliment.

‘You’re such a suck up,’ she teased. He shook his head fondly.

‘I speak the truth,’ he kissed her cheek. ‘So!’ he enthused, changing the subject, ‘Do you want me to order all this now?’

‘Yes please, Cassie,’ She kissed his cheek in return. ‘You’re the best!’ and she ruffled his hair as he set to burning a hole through Gabriel’s expense account.

 

***

 

Dean Winchester could follow instructions like a pro, after all, being a manipulatable piece of meat was, he felt, his greatest skill.  He was also used to using his body and his face to manipulate people in return. A function that had, in his twenty three year experience, always served to get him what he wanted. And right then, as he sat and posed for the overly handsy Gabriel Kay, what he really wanted was the mysteriously sexy guy at the reception desk.

The eyes that had greeted him as he stepped into GK photography studios were a resplendent sapphire blue and full of a naively naked appreciation that set Dean’s system into charm overdrive.  It didn't hurt of course that they were framed by long, dark eyelashes and paired with a chiseled, very lightly stubbled jaw, and soft pink, cupid’s bow lips. His outfit, an oversized, navy, knitted cardigan and a white T-shirt with grey tapered sweatpants, led Dean to assume that he was the photographer, all casually-artsy, hipster cool, because what receptionist dresses like that? But then it made sense when he realised his brother owned the place. And also that his brother was kind of a douche. After that crack about it being a nude photo shoot, and the warnings Mr sexy hipster had given him, Dean was convinced the guy was a total lech. However, being that Gabriel was supposedly the best photographer in LA and had a seriously gorgeous little brother, Dean was on his best behaviour.

He was also preparing himself to dig for information. Dean had recognised the redhead in the killer heels as the girl alongside a younger version of the receptionist in the myriad of framed photographs around the office and had felt that their similarly spectacular bone structure was a result of their being related. But she had also laid into him about not helping her with the wedding planning and called him babe. So it was just as likely they were childhood sweethearts, even with the looks he was giving Dean (it wouldn’t be the first time that Dean Winchester had snatched a taken man). A little recon was in order, not necessarily because it would influence Dean’s intentions - he was already fantasising about looking down into those stunning blue eyes whilst fucking their owner into the mattress- but it would definitely help him decide on a plan of attack.

While Gabriel had been messing with the lighting and giving Dean instructions on where to turn his body and how to school his face, Dean had been asking questions about the business and how long the photographer had been in LA, how many actors he got coming through his studio and how many of them had gone on to be the next big thing.

‘You think you’re ready to hit the big time, Dean-o?’ he asked with a shit eating grin, eyes all merry like.

‘Yeah, well, I was just minding my own business, working in my Uncle’s garage and all of a sudden one of our regulars hands me a card and says I’d be perfect for some part she’s casting and next thing you know I’m in showbiz.’ Dean says, all practiced nonchalance.

‘Just like that huh?’ scoffed Gabe.

‘Pretty much, yeah.’ Dean said easily. ‘The money really helps, what with my little brother starting at Stanford this year and everything.’ Dean just loved slipping his brother’s success into conversation. He grasped every opportunity to play his proud brother card.

‘Kid brother’s can be expensive.’ Gabe said, with genuine fondness.

‘Seems like you’ve got yours working for you, though.’ Dean starts, ‘Sort of a family business?’ It’s a question in a statement.

‘Nah, he’s just filling in until I can get a new receptionist. For some reason, they seem to drop like flies around here…’ Dean could only imagine that there were about a hundred sexual harassment suits in the works.

‘And Anna?’

‘God no!’ Gabe cried, ‘spare me the Drama!’ Said with a healthy dose of flair, Dean noted ironically. ‘It’s a wonder she and Cassie are even related, let alone twins, they're so different.’ he shook his head with wonder.

‘Cassie?’ Dean asked. How many family members did this guy have?

‘Castiel. My brother, the one you're fishing for information about.’ he stated slyly, eyes glinting.

‘I bet he loves the nickname.’ Dean replied sarcastically, trying to avoid Gabriel’s insinuation while at the same time doing a mental happy dance at the fact that Mr sexy hipster, _Castiel_ , was potentially single and probably _not_ marrying his twin sister.  Gabriel just shrugged, as if anybody else’s opinion of what he called his brother was a million times less than interesting.

‘Cassie is not a big fan of Drama. How he puts up with Anna in his ear twenty-four-seven is beyond me.’ Gabriel looked knowingly at Dean as he continued, ‘he prefers his peace and quiet.’

‘Well, I’m all for peace and quiet,’ Dean admitted, ‘but everybody needs a bit of excitement now and then, right?’

‘I fully support that theory. Dean-o.’ Gabriel quipped. ‘But Cassie might take a bit of convincing.’ Dean took that for the encouragement that it was. Not that he needed encouraging, he found few things in life more entertaining (or distracting, if he was being honest) than charming his way inside an attractive stranger. It was why the whole acting schtick appealed to him so much, besides the paycheck, it was an opportunity for him to charm his way into the hearts and minds of thousands and bolster the judgement of his worth in their reciprocation of it.

‘Well that’s just fine, _Gabe_ ,’ he practically purred, ‘because I happen to be very convincing.’ and Gabe smiled but shook his head.

‘We’ll see,’ was all he said.

 

The shoot was over shortly after and Dean thanked Gabriel for his time, heading out to the reception area with a bounce in his step. The potential for major flirting, hopefully ending with Castiel following him down to the car and back to his place, had him feeling pretty bouncy. _Although a quick cleanup of the apartment might be necessary,_ he thought belatedly, unless he could lure Cas into the backseat of the Impala (and wasn’t that some mouth watering imagery). Dean stopped short when he found the redhead at the desk, afraid his sexy hipster conquest had left him high and dry.

‘Hey,’ he said, leaning into the desk. Anna raised her eyebrow in response. He thought quickly about how not to seem like a desperate loser. ‘So do I need to take an invoice or what?’ Right, keep it professional.

‘Oh right,’ she replied, handing him a piece of paper, ‘Cassie left this for you.’

‘Yeah?’ he took it, disappointed to find no personalised message or phone number, ‘where did he go anyway?’

‘He had a last minute appointment with his thesis advisor’ she sighed, ‘but he’ll be back in an hour. Should I leave him a message?’ she asked, and the similarity between her and Gabriel was obvious in her expression of mischievous understanding. He thought about leaving a number, but the idea that Castiel was meeting with his _thesis advisor_ was holding him back. Maybe the guy was just way out of his league. Smart, sexy and ridiculously rich, if his family was anything to go by, was just a dangerous combination to fuel Dean's feeling of inadequacy. But what the hell, _it’s not like I’ve ever worried about making an ass of myself before._

‘Thesis advisor, huh?’ Dean leaned even further into the counter, bridging Anna’s personal space and smiling seductively, ‘smart _and_ sexy, is he?’

‘Save it for my brother, Prince Charming,’ she joked, laughing at his antics. ‘We’ve got your number on file. I’ll get him to call you.’

‘Much obliged, Anna.’ Dean winked, ‘and tell him I say hi.’

‘We’ll see,’ she teased, and Dean nodded his head in acknowledgment of its friendly intent. If it wasn’t for the obvious age difference, Dean would have thought Gabe and Anna were the twins. They seemed entirely different together from the sweet, bumbling, Castiel that had stared up at him so guilelessly across the desk, it was difficult to imagine the relationship.   He left buoyed by the idea that he had a phone call to look forward to and, judging by the dollar amount on the bottom of that invoice, some really fucking _awesome_ headshots to keep his agent of his back.


	2. The Cafe

Castiel clawed his way out of sleep with a venomous dislike of his older brother’s ability to lead him astray. His recollection of the previous night was sketchy, but it had definitely started with Gabe wanting to introduce him to the Los Angeles nightlife. 

‘You need some excitement in your life, kiddo! ’  Gabriel had cried, grabbing Castiel by the arms and essentially dragging him to the nameless club, full of faceless people, at which Cas had drunk far too much and - he vaguely remembered - danced inappropriately between an uncommonly attractive couple intent on taking him home. He had managed to escape them, and his brother, and find a cab back to Gabriel’s  place in Windsor Square, faceplant into his temporary bed and slide into unconsciousness. 

It had been three days since Castiel had rushed back to the office to find a grumpy Anna waiting to be relieved, sliding a phone number into his pocket as she stalked out to return to her paying job in the gallery down the street. 

‘Call that sexy boy, Castiel!’ she had practically sung at him as the elevator doors folded her away. He had checked the number on the post it, surrounded by a heart and the words ‘Cas is out to get lucky’ - thank you Anna, thank you Daft Punk - in her giant, loopy script, and sighed with cowardice. He could not call the sexy boy, it was just too beyond his nature to be so presumptive. He didn’t have the confidence, especially after the epic fail he had delivered his family recently and the crash and burn of last years reluctant romance with Inias. And besides all of that, what he really should have been focussing on was his study, getting his dissertation completed to prove that his struggle for independence from the family was worthwhile, even if just to himself. 

 

But he hadn’t had the heart to throw the phone number away either. It just sat in his wallet, weighing it down with the judgment of Castiel’s timidity. He could still feel it sitting there, taunting him from the pocket of his jeans, haplessly strewn to the floor in a drunken flourish sometime in the night. The inside of his mouth gave the impression he had gargled tar, so he stumbled into the ensuite to run water from the faucet directly over his tongue. He drank some of the water and used all remaining mental faculties to circumvent the feeling of nausea that hit him once he swallowed. Sweating it out with a run would probably be the best remedy for his hangover. Waking up Gabriel and forcing him to accompany him would just be a bonus. 

‘Gabe!’ he shouted at the door of the master bedroom. ‘Are you alone? Are you decent?’ The answer to both those questions was undoubtedly no, but all he could hear from inside the room was groaning. And not the kind of groaning that implied last night's proclivities had continued into the morning, but more like the grumbling of a very hungover older brother who was getting too old to party so hard. Castiel said as much through the crack in the door as he opened it gingerly. 

‘Excuse you!’ was the incredulous reply from somewhere under the mound of bedcovers. ‘There is no age restriction on having a good time, little brother.’ Gabriel popped his head out from the covers and squinted at the little bit of light coming in through the open door. ‘And you should be nice to me.’ he continued, swinging his legs over the bed and putting his head in his hands. ‘I’m the only person that loves you right now.’

‘Not true,’ Castiel replied, huffing a laugh at his brother’s discomfort. ‘Anna  _ always _ loves me.’

‘She doesn’t count,’ mumbled Gabriel. ‘She’s your womb buddy. She  _ has _ to love you.’

 

Cas eventually hauled Gabe up and out of the house - ignoring his uncomfortable dismissal of the poor girl that had spent the night. They managed a measly two miles before Gabriel was ready to heave his stomach contents onto the pavement (namely ten percent banana and ninety percent bile) and because Cas really didn’t want to see that, or subject innocent bystanders to it, he called it quits less than half way through his normal run.  

‘Jesus christ, Castiel. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.’ Gabriel gasped between ragged breaths. 

‘ _ I _ honestly can’t believe you made it two miles.’

‘If I had not consumed an entire liquor store last night,’ Gabriel started, unimpressed with his brothers sass, ‘I would be running circles around you right now,’ and tried to drive his point home by jabbing his index finger into Cas’ chest. Castiel just laughed at the blatant exaggeration, knowing he had to forcibly drag Gabriel around the circuit even on his best day.

‘Yes, yes, Gabe. You are a born track star,’ Castiel placated, ‘allow me to buy you a coffee to appease the indiscretion.’

‘Make it a giant, greasy breakfast, and some kind of electrolyte solution in an IV bag and you got a deal.’ Puffed Gabe, still bent at the waist and fighting for air. 

‘Can we compromise? There’s a cafe on the corner,’ Castiel didn’t want to subject his brother to any further, unnecessary exercise, ‘and they make an excellent breakfast muffin.’

Gabriel just waved his hand in reply, gesturing for Castiel to lead the way. 

 

They walked in to find the cafe bustling with activity, so when they spotted a small empty table near the window they made a beeline for it. It wasn’t until Castiel looked up to check the menu board behind the counter that he recognised the barista and sunk low in his chair instinctively. Gabriel spotted the behaviour and turned to see what had his brother so flustered.

‘Well, well well. I’m feeling better already, Cassie!’

‘Out of all the cafe’s.’ Castiel muttered under his breath.

‘I think that’s his line, Cassie.’ Gabe said with undisguised glee.

‘Oh har-har, Gabriel,’ he rolled his eyes, ‘Dean is not Humphrey Bogart.’

‘No, but  _ you _ could give Ingrid Bergman a run for her money.’ Castiel wasn’t sure weather to bristle or preen at the implied compliment. Though he suspected it was meant to tease, Castiel was unused to praise, and therefore never quite sure how to accept it. It was of course at that moment, small smile sitting playfully on Castiel’s lips, that Dean looked up from the industrial coffee machine and caught his eye. A lazy, predatory grin spread across his ridiculously handsome face to leave a hitched breath in Cas’ throat. 

‘Oh crap.’

‘You better strap yourself in, kiddo,’ Gabriel laughed, turning back to catch Dean’s expression, ‘that ride is going to be  _ wild.’ _

 

 

_ *** _

 

Dean had to admit that he was not used to feeling so upset by a rebuffel. Normally he could take a knock back in his stride, but he was so sure Castiel had been smitten with him, so  _ excited _ by the idea of seeing him again, that not hearing from him after three days had him walking around like a kicked puppy. He had been shuffling around his crappy Studio apartment, checking his phone every 10 minutes like some angsty tween and basically moping. 

 

So he had taken an extra shift at the cafe when Benny called, flirted outrageously with the new girl, Lisa something-or-other, and tried to fake some enthusiasm. She was cute and brash and kept looking up at him through her darkened lashes, brushing against him unnecessarily in the prep area, but he just wasn’t feeling it. He figured it was probably true that people always wanted what they couldn’t have. And the whole, sexy hipster thing was probably just way exaggerated in his mind now anyway. Odds were on Cas being a boring, stuck up, preppy type that Dean was getting all bent outta shape about because he was like the one that got away or whatever. Except as soon as Dean looked up from steaming the milk and locked onto a pair of icy blue iris’ to die for, he almost came in his pants. That might have been helped along by the shy little smile on Cas’ face and the adorable way he shucked his chin, embarrassed, blush blowing out into those killer cheekbones. Definitely not exaggerated. Dean’s overactive imagination hadn’t even done him justice. 

 

He watched Cas whisper heatedly with Gabe - and of course Mr major perv was here as well, Dean just could not catch a break - and then swallow pointedly as he got up from the table. Dean expertly heated the milk until it was aerated and creamy, finishing off the coffee order on his docket and then ungraciously bumping Lisa away from the register so he could take the orders. He barely noticed her slink away to make up the cold drinks for the next docket. All his attention was squarely on the long, lean form of Castiel as he approached the counter in his short running shorts and faded grey band Tee. 

‘Cub Sport?’

‘Oh,’ Castiel said shyly, looking down at the logo on his shirt, ‘yeah, I like them.’

‘Never even heard of them.’ Dean replied with a smirk.

‘Well, it wouldn’t be as cool if people recognised them, would it?’ Cas joked. Dean could appreciate the flippant self deprecation, not much was more attractive than a man who didn’t take himself too seriously. 

‘So,’ Dean said, suddenly feeling vulnerable - a feeling he hated, for the record - ‘you never called.’

Castiel, to his credit, looked astonished by the statement. ‘You were expecting me to?’ Dean would have been offended, but Cas’ expression was less,  _ As if I would call you _ , and more,  _ I can’t believe you even remember me. _ It was beautiful to watch really. Dean felt completely in control again, and he relished it. 

‘Didn’t Anna give you the message?’

‘No. I mean yes, but... I mean, she gave me your number, but I thought she was just encouraging me to be more adventurous,’ and his blush just intensified, if that could be believed, ‘I didn’t realise…’ His voice trailed away with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. 

Dean leaned forward and said, voice low and intimate, ‘more adventurous, huh?’ 

‘You picked up on that, did you?’ Cas said, looking away, abashed.

‘I can help you with that.’ Dean almost whispered. The look that Cas gave him in response was going to ruin anybody new for Dean; a crazy mixture of lust and innocence wrapped up with a grace and sensitivity that he had never seen before. It was addictive. It worried Dean for a moment, how easily he could get used to just watching Cas chew on his bottom lip, smile small and shy, eyes shining. But he brushed that worry aside in favour of enjoying the anticipation of their potential. His dick was thankful for it too, already at half mast and eager to stand to attention. Dean was, for the first time ever, actually glad to be wearing the stupid aprons that Benny insisted they use as their uniform. 

Castiel seemed to be at a loss for words. Dean watched him physically pull himself together to formulate a reply. ‘I would…’ he started, a slight frown suggesting he wasn’t sure how to keep going. ‘I would be… I would be amenable to that, Dean.’ He finally said. So formal. So damn cute. Looking pretty pleased with himself too as Dean chuckled at him. 

‘So when are you free next,’ Dean asked.

‘I’m always free.’ And Dean loved how he said that with no hesitation. Not even aware that he was supposed to play hard to get.

‘Tonight?’ Dean was also aware of how eager he sounded and in that moment, couldn’t care less.

‘Yes,’ Castiel replied, his smile growing wide, reaching his eyes. ‘No!’ he said suddenly, looking distressed. Dean would have laughed, but he was too upset at having his hopes dashed.

‘No pressure, Cas.’

‘Oh no, it’s not that, it’s just that it’s my birthday.’ He said, reaching a hand out to Dean in placation. It was warm and soft on Dean’s forearm. 

‘When?’

‘Today,’ Cas said softly. Like it was a secret.

‘Today!’ Dean replied, much louder. Cas smiled though, at the outburst. 

‘Yes, and Gabriel is throwing me some kind of party. Although it will likely be awful.  Anna will probably be the only person I know there.’ 

‘Well you know,’ Dean started, ‘If you invite me, it would double that number.’ Cas’ face lit up at the prospect.

‘You would come?’ he asked hopefully.

‘If you want me to.’

‘I would, I do, I mean… that would be lovely!’ and Cas hand squeezed Dean’s arm gently. It made him glad again for the apron around his waist. Dean looked over and saw Gabe laughing and shaking his head. And then he noticed the line of angry customers. 

He took Cas’ order and shooed him away from the counter to calm the hoards and then took over from Lisa to get the dockets passed as quickly as possible. When Cas’ drinks were ready, he called him over and presented a cupcake, on the house, along with the muffins and coffee’s. The smile he got in response was blinding and Dean realised with frightening clarity, how far he would go to see it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one is my favourite chapter :)
> 
>  


	3. The Party

Cas, with Anna’s help, took far too long to get ready for his birthday party. She really was a terrible influence on his self confidence, trying to persuade him to dress up, go all out and make an impression. He was just worried that too good an impression wouldn’t be a true representation of his nature. Anna tried to explain that that’s exactly what fashion was for, but Castiel rebutted that in fact, fashion was meant to be an object of self expression and won the right to dress down. He even got to keep his glasses on, though the funky clear frames had admittedly won Anna’s seal of approval. After he had promised to text Dean the details of the party, he had left the cafe with a cheshire level grin and music in his ears. Also with a stomach full of delicious cupcake, which, thanks to Gabriel's hangover, he had been able to eat whole and with great pleasure.

 

But once he got home the panic set in and Anna was called in for damage control, hence her sitting on his bed and tutting at his choice of latte coloured, fitted cargo’s (cuffed of course, Anna insisted), a white button down and a forest green cardigan with alternating horizontal block stripes of a blue on white and beige on brown diamonds through the chest. It was his favourite cardigan, a gift from Anna of which the green shade had suddenly become particularly attractive. Gabriel always liked to call him Grandpa when he caught him wearing it, and he was beginning to think his older brother was fixated on Castiel having the disposition of an old man.

‘Are you sure you want to wear those shoes, Cassie?’ Gabe asked innocently once they eventually wandered down to the party area in the extensive and impressive back yard.

Castiel looked down at his brown Doc’s in consternation. ‘I mean, wouldn’t some cord slippers be more appropriate.’ He continued, snickering to himself. Castiel just rolled his eyes by way of an actual reply. ‘Perhaps a pipe?’ Gabriel was relentless.

‘Give it up, Gabe,’ Anna said over her shoulder as she passed by her brother and straight towards the drinks, ‘the only old man here is you.’

 

The backyard was beautifully decorated with fairy lights and chinese lanterns, the pool reflecting the light so that it bounced around and they seemed surrounded by it. Gabe had made a particularly strong but delicious batch of sangria and the twins helped themselves, Cas drinking to stave of the nerves of the unfamiliar people coming to pretend to celebrate his birthday (but who wanted mostly to schmooze with his brother and be important by extension). He was also absurdly nervous about seeing Dean again, never-minding that their meeting earlier in the day had gone so well and seemed so natural. The alcohol worked to sooth his restlessness and he meandered through the people with less awkwardness than was usual thanks to the healthy dose of tequila (very expensive tequila) Gabriel had topped his glass up with. Even so, Cas felt that everywhere his body went, it kept one eye glued to the front door.

 

It was an hour into the party before the object of Castiel’s excited fear arrived at the door. Cas was there to open it, having escaped from the backyard and the throngs of, so far, mildly inebriated guests. He couldn’t suppress his smile as he drank in the sight of the dark blonde, green eyed example of perfection that was waiting for him there.

‘Heya, Cas,’  Dean greeted with a jaunty wave. The gesture set Castiel's mind at ease, just a bit, with its innocent charm. It seemed absolutely surreal that Dean was even there and Cas shucked his chin into his shoulder self consciously, grinning all the while and hoping his - for all intents and purposes- date, didn’t notice the flush in his cheeks.

‘Hello, Dean.’ Castiel replied, stepping back slightly and allowing Dean to brush past him as he closed the door and led him through the foyer. Dean whistled and span in a little circle as he surveyed the grandness of Gabriel’s rather opulent entrance.

‘Quite a place you have here,’ he admired, eyebrows raised somewhere between surprise and questioning.

‘Well, it’s all Gabriel. He’s very kindly allowing me to stay here for a time.’ Castiel responded, mindful to properly express the humility he felt at being allowed such a luxury while he floundered at getting his life up and running. Quitting his eldest brother’s internship meant he was disinherited him from the substantial amount of money he would have received on his twenty fifth birthday. The fact that he had done it to get his PhD was irrelevant to his family. Just over a year shy of it as he was,the sting was as much in their attitude as in the actual loss of his money (and home, by extension). He felt, with good reason, that he was being abandoned for daring to be true to himself, an attribute that his mother did not, evidently, hold in high regard.

‘Just temporarily you mean?’ Dean asked, still adjusting to his surroundings, carefully stroking the original mouldings that had been so artfully restored some years ago.

‘I do,’ Castiel replied, reluctant to go into any detail so early in their relationship, ‘I’m in between apartments at the moment.’ Dean nodded his assent.

‘So, um…’ He said awkwardly, taking a step closer to Castiel and removing a small canvas parcel from his pocket, ‘happy birthday.’

Castiel took the present from Dean’s hands, the, ‘Oh, Dean. You shouldn’t have,’ tripping on his tongue as he opened the bag to find a dark brown leather bracelet inside.

‘It’s nothing really,’ Dean blushed, ‘I make stuff sometimes. My friends seem to like it, so…’

Castiel tipped the bracelet into his palm and marvelled at it. He’d never had something handmade before, and certainly not with such skill. It had three loops of leather, two plain and the third, braided, a stainless steel screw clasp and a leather thong with a small steel ‘C’ attached held them together.

‘I thought it might kinda suit you…’

‘Dean, it’s beautiful.’

‘It’s really not,’ he said, clearly chuffed, but embarrassed.

‘Would you put it on?’ Cas asked, holding out the bracelet and his wrist to Dean. Dean’s hands were warm and sure where they touched Cas, maneuvering his wrist to fasten the clasp and then holding his hand gently as he turned it over and brushed down his fingertips. The sensation had Cas’ heart quickening and his breath slightly ragged. It was both unlike, and more profound, than any touch he’d felt before and he wondered what those hands would feel like running across his chest, down his ribs, along his hipbones. The thought made him shiver; enough for Dean to notice and grin at the response.

‘You like it?’ Dean asked, still holding Cas’ hand.

‘Yeah...yes,’ Cas replied, swallowing audibly, unsure if the question was in regards to the bracelet or Dean’s movements, knowing the answer was the same either way. They held each other's gaze for longer than would have been appropriate under normal circumstances, especially with both of Dean’s hands still attached to Cas’, and it felt terribly intimate. Dean broke the tension by dropping one hand, keeping grip of the other and slotting their fingers together.

‘Give me the grand tour?’ He asked with a smile. Cas nodded, glad for the distraction, and led Dean through the house, eventually to the backyard where most of the rest of the guests had congregated, drinking, eating and chatting amiably.

 

Anna wandered over to them with a beer for Dean and a glass of sangria for her brother. She raised her eyebrow slightly at the sight of the boys hands entwined, but followed it up with a wry grin. Dean pulled deftly on a mouthful of his beer with an easy masculinity that Cas had never found so sexy. He hummed appreciatively at the taste.

‘What brand is this?’ he asked Anna politely, reading the bottle and finding the label puzzling.

‘I don’t know, something beery?’ she replied, causing Dean to chuckle.

‘You should critique professionally, with observations like that, Anna,’ Castiel ribbed playfully. Dean’s chuckle deepened into a real laugh at the comment and Anna shook her head and rolled her eyes at Castiel's cheeky banter. The three of them stood for a while, eating the canapes as they passed and chatting about Dean’s work (‘Is it really glamorous, being in a movie?’, ‘Nope, boring as shit actually,’ Dean had replied, to Anna’s disappointment) and Castiel’s thesis (‘Feminism in women’s detective fiction? Really Cas, aren’t you sort of unqualified to discuss that without a uterus?’, ‘Men can be feminists too, Dean. Wanting people to be judged on their merits and not their sexual appendages does not strictly require a uterus.’) and Anna’s painting (even Gabriel agreed that she was brilliant as he butted in to the conversation baring alcoholic cake pops).

 

An hour passed like that and soon Anna had wandered away again and left Dean and Castiel to themselves. What should have been an awkward silence instead became a highly arousing and electrically charged staring contest.

‘So maybe you should give me the tour of your bedroom again?’ Dean asked slyly and Castiel smiled and took the hand still twisted in his fingers to lead his date inside and upstairs.

 

 

***

 

 

Dean had been pretty floored by the house when he first arrived. It sat back from the street, huge and pastel yellow, nestled amongst a deep green, well maintained front garden: at home in a street full of similarly oversized, overpriced, overdone houses. It was, Dean hated to admit, slightly intimidating and resolutely unfamiliar. He parked his Impala at the curb and swaggered up to the entrance with false confidence. But when Cas opened the door, looking like a sexy professor with his mussed up hair and ridiculous sweater, he forgot to be nervous and settled on joyful instead. His piercing blue eyes had blinked up at Dean behind his glasses with captivated intensity while he led him into the foyer, and the feel of his soft skin under Dean’s fingers, the look of honest appreciation on his face for the gift that Dean had made with thonged leather and scrap metal, had Dean’s chest constricting in a way he’d never quite experienced before.  

 

He actually surprised himself when his hands lingered on Cas’ after putting the bracelet on him. The shiver that ran through Cas as he brushed along the length of his hand softly would have been hot even without the dark lust barely contained in the birthday boy’s expression. The fact that Dean didn’t let go, and went so far as to latch their fingers together as he asked Cas for the grand tour, felt so natural it was scary.

 

Dean didn’t care too much for most of the guests he was introduced too. They had given him a once-over, decided he wasn’t influential enough to be interesting and turned back to their conversations. The way they treated Cas with the same casual indifference was simultaneously reassuring and infuriating to Dean. Cas was supposed to be the center of attention, but it was obvious he didn’t want to be, and couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the crappy attitude. So Dean decided that if it didn’t bother Cas, then it wouldn’t bother Dean. They could be the _bigger_ people, or whatever.

 

On second impression, Gabe turned out to be just as crass as Dean remembered from their photo shoot, but the love he had for Cas was palpable. The fact that he was letting his little brother live with him while he was going through some kind of drama - that Cas hadn’t elaborated on, and Dean was never a guy to push for touchy-feely conversations - demonstrated just how well he was willing to take care of the kid. And Dean could relate to that, being solely responsible for Sammy for so many years while their dad had drank uncontrollably, neglected them and emotionally ground his sons into hamburger meat (respectively). All the money this crazy movie shit was making him (or would be soon, hopefully) was going to help Sam get by out at Stanford, and Sam accepted the help (‘I’ll allow it, Dean, but only because I’m going to pay you back every dollar,’ Sam had grudgingly agreed, ‘and because I think this could really work out for you, It’s a damn sight better than pool hustling, that’s for sure.’) without too much bitching, so that was a bonus too.

 

Watching Anna and Cas together was a lesson in how cool and funny the guy could be when he wasn’t a bundle of nerves, anxiety no doubt a result of the potent presence of Dean Winchester and his hyper sexual and predatory personality. Dean was aware of the effect he had on people, but with Cas is was different. He wasn’t falling all over himself to get into Dean’s pants. He wasn’t blindly buying into the charm. It made it easier for Dean to tone it down some, and be himself (to a degree), which seemed to be pulling Cas further into his orbit. The more it worked, the more Dean relaxed, until Dean just felt like he was shooting the shit with an old friend. Then suddenly he was asking Cas to take him back up to his bedroom, and Cas was smiling that smile, looking up at him with gorgeous eyes, blushing along those killer cheekbones. The effect didn’t hit Dean in his dick like it normally would; instead it took hold in his chest, like a warmth that spread out along his nervous system and settled in his fingertips.

 

This was all uncharted territory for Dean, he didn’t ever remember a moment in his life when he had felt like this. Not like he wanted to fuck someone into a sweaty mess, get in and get out without strings attached, but like he wanted to see Cas smile like that just for him, sweet and happy, for as long as Dean could make him. And fuck, if that wasn’t some terrifying shit right there.

Once they made it up to Cas’ bedroom, the boys both took a seat on Cas’ bed. Dean mirrored Cas as he curled his legs up underneath him on the brightly coloured bedspread. They watched each other, facing off like that, for about thirty seconds before Dean felt the need to break the silence.

‘Cas-’ Dean started, but fumbled on the follow through.

‘Dean.’ Cas prodded, scooting slightly forward on the bed and further into Dean’s personal space.

‘I just, like… I want to say, that this is a bit new for me.’ Dean sighed with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. He was definitely not used to letting himself be so vulnerable in front of another person.

‘How so?’ Cas asked. So formal. Dean took a minute to think about how to explain himself, without looking like an idiot. Or a total player (though usually he was, which unfortunately, made that quite difficult).

‘Well, this is not my normal M.O. I guess.’

‘I see,’ Cas said, though it seemed like he didn’t at all, ‘so what would your usual “M.O” be?’ He finished, using air quotes that Dean should have found pretentious, but were endearing on Cas.

‘Let’s just say, without going into any detail, ‘cause it’ll make me look like a dick-’

‘I don’t think you’re a dick, Dean,’ Cas interrupted. Dean smiled bashfully at that and ducked his head, _pull it together, Winchester, you are not this guy._

‘Listen, I think, well... don’t get too attached until you have a better idea who I really am.’

‘Why don’t you let me decide how attached I can get to you at my own speed, Dean.’ Cas said softly, touching him gently on the knee with long, elegant fingers. ‘I’m a grown-up, you know. I get to be my own boss now.’ Dean was too distracted by Castiel's fingers tracing his knee through the fabric of his jeans that he gave no real consideration to not having got his point across at all.

 

Cas should be warned about what bad news Dean was going to be for him. Because he didn’t know how long it would last; how long this feeling of wanting to keep Cas would hang around before the Dean Winchester that everyone knew and loved would reappear and cut and run. Cas deserved better than that; Dean knew it in his bones. But he also knew, just like he had known at the coffee house, with a clarity he seldom experienced, that he was going to take everything he could get from Cas, because he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

‘Your own boss, huh?’ Dean said playfully, inching his way closer to Cas.

‘It’s one of the few benefits, I’ve found, to being an adult.’ Cas replied, voice soft and low as he watched Dean move forward, planting his hands on either side of Cas’ body, leaning his way towards his lips. Cas allowed himself to be gently pressed backwards into the bed, until he winced, as if in pain.

‘What is it?’ Dean asked, concerned. Cas reached behind his back and pulled a belt free from underneath himself. A very green, leather belt with a gold ‘H’ for a buckle.

‘Well that’s...unique?’ Dean lamented, and he must not have hidden his opinion very well because Cas laughed at his expression. It looked to Dean like the kind of expensive looking fashion piece that people used to throw their money in your face. But the anticipatory expression Cas was wearing as Dean hovered over him, contemplating how good his lips might taste, and how sweet it would feel to tugg them between his teeth, sent a delicious heat through him.

‘Yes, it’s...different.’ Cas said with hesitation, licking his lips nervously - perhaps not completely unaware of the effect he was having on his guest. ‘Don't say anything to Gabe though, I think it was quite expensive.’ And with perfect timing, Gabe burst through the door, eyes alight at the picture of Dean’s body framing Cas as he lay back, propped up by his elbows.

‘Cake time, Cassie!’ He shouted, exuberantly. Cas looked up at Dean and rolled his eyes, a look that Dean interpreted to mean that he knew his brother was a cockblock, but loved him anyway. ‘And no, you may not have five minutes. Get that cute butt out here!’

Dean reluctantly sat back and lifted himself off the bed. Cas glided to his feet gracefully and lead Dean to squeeze past Gabe and head downstairs.

‘And that belt cost me close to a thousand bucks, baby bro, I want to see you wearing it every day!’ Gabe called from behind them, the revelation of which nearly tumbled Dean down the steps. _Who the fuck spends a thousand dollars on a belt!?_ his head practically screamed, _That’s a month’s rent for Christ’s sake!_ And Dean felt suddenly that he was out of his league.

 

The cake was some kind of white chocolate sponge with buttercream frosting and a lemon curd centre. It was good - it wasn’t pie - but it was good. Dean had two pieces while he waited for Cas to make the rounds and be gracious with thank-you’s for the gifts that had been left (unopened). People had mostly made their way inside, it was July, so the days were warm but the nights could still get cold. Dean made his way out to the backyard, marvelling at the setup and how inviting the pool looked - even with the chill in the air. He grabbed himself another beer from one of the ice buckets that had been placed around the garden and then wandered back to the outskirts of the living room. He caught Cas glance his way a few times as he navigated his way through the partygoers and each time he would smile that small smile that Dean was beginning to think was made for him alone. It was such a precious feeling, like a light to warm Dean from the inside out, every glimpse of that smile, and it had Dean faltering. If he wasn’t such a hardened cynic, if he believed in stuff like butterflies and sparks, he might believe that this thing with Cas could be special. But he didn’t. Relationships were all about manipulation and greed, and getting your pleasure where you could. Any flowery, hallmark card bullshit would only disappoint you; leaving you cold and lonely once the dust settled.

 

Still, it might be worth exploring, this feeling in his chest. And some curious little voice inside him urged him not to push too hard tonight. It wasn’t the right time to make a move, too many people were here and probably not going anywhere any time soon. Too much booze had already been consumed, and half of Cas’ family were sitting in the lounge, shouting about composition and bad lighting as some creepy British guy with an equally creepy name, Zar, or something, argued with Gabe and Anna good naturedly (he’d already pegged the guy as a douchebag after watching him track Cas’ movements all night with shifty eyes).

 

No, Dean decided that he would take off early and leave Cas to his family and his guests. But not without making a devastating Dean Winchester-esque impression, thus ensuring an enthusiastic date number two. And hopefully in the very near future.

 

 

****

 

 

Castiel watched Dean strut about the outskirts of the party, deftly avoiding the guests who tried to draw him into conversation. Though Dean wasn’t _important_ , in the way that Gabe’s friends often categorized who they should make an effort with, he was so attractive, so very handsome and confident and authoritative in manner, that they knew he was going to be something special. Castiel was aware that Dean was already special. He could see how amazing Dean was, he just didn’t judge worth in the same superficial way that these people (along with most of his family, let’s be honest) did. Dean’s worth was in the light in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, the kindness of giving an almost perfect stranger a cupcake because it was their birthday. It was in the gift that Dean had actually made, with his own two hands, to fit around Castiel’s wrist and remind him with its presence that someone had thought enough of him to make that effort. No one in castiel’s life - other than his brother and sister - had ever given him such a thoughtful gift.

 

While Castiel enjoyed the friendly argument escalating between Gabe and Anna and Balthazar (it was always nice to see his siblings side together for a change), he kept Dean in his peripheral vision. As much to make sure he wasn’t being harassed as to simply catalogue his every feature with a modicum of subtlety. Castiel knew that Subtlety wasn’t really his forte and relished the opportunity to imbibe it. Cas had noticed that Balthazar (Gabriel’s best friend and most long standing employee) seemed wary of Dean. As an honorary older brother , Zar had never seemed to warm to any of Castiel’s suitors. It was a trait that Gabriel often teased his friend about, though to be fair, they had all turned out to be awful choices for Castiel, as far as boyfriends went. But Cas could see that Dean was not interpreting the behaviour favourably and intended to speak with Balthazar at a later time, to ask him to make a special effort with Dean. Dean was different, _felt_ different to Castiel, like he should hold on tighter to him somehow, like just being in his vicinity would open up a previously unknown world to Castiel. One in brilliant technicolour. He was mesmerizing.

 

And so it was that he noticed the slight head tilt Dean made in his direction, as if beckoning him for an audience. Castiel followed immediately, hoping he hadn’t left Dean alone for so long that he was getting bored.

‘Dean?’ Cas asked, as he reached him in the foyer.

‘Hey, Cas, I was thinking I might take off.’ Something akin to panic flared in Castiel.

‘Oh? Yes, of course.’ Cas tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. ‘I’m sorry it’s kind of tame for a party. I’m not very exciting, I’m afraid.’

Dean huffed at that and shook his head in disagreement. ‘You’re plenty exciting, Cas.’ He reached out to take Cas’ wrist and draw him closer. ‘It’s not like that.’ Cas looked up into Dean’s eyes, not much of a stretch as they were almost equal in height, though Dean was much broader in the chest and shoulders than Castiel.

‘But you have to go?’

‘I thought I should leave you to your family for now,’ Dean started, and cupped his hand over Castiel’s mouth as he made to protest the suggestion. ‘But I’d like to see you again, just you and me, if you’d like…?’ Cas’ lips smiled behind Dean’s palm and almost leaned forward to follow the contact as his hand retracted. But Dean’s hand then slid around Castiel’s waist and drew him in until their bodies were inches apart. ‘Would you like that, Cas?’ he whispered.

Cas could only nod in response. His hands crept up and rested on the flat, powerful expanse of Dean’s chest. He watched as Dean’s lips edged closer and closer, then shut his eyes and closed the distance between them to fit his mouth against Dean’s. It was soft and gentle, Cas tilted his head slightly to gain purchase and then pressed with need against the heat of Dean’s mouth. Tenderly, Dean traced Castiel’s lips with his tongue and sucked almost imperceptibly on the flesh he found there. It was, at once, everything Cas could have imagined, and nothing he could have believed a kiss to be. And was of course immediately ruined by the force of nature that Cas called a brother.

‘Looks like Cassie got his birthday wish!’ Gabriel shouted from the doorway between the foyer and the living room. Dean jumped back suddenly at the disturbance (and the wolf whistle from somewhere in the adjoining room) and had to grab for the vase that threatened to topple off the console he had barreled into. Castiel stood his ground and flashed his brother a glare that could freeze hell. He felt suddenly cold at the loss of such glorious body contact.

‘Nothing to see here, move it along everyone!’ Anna called, marching into the room. She looked just as furious as Castiel as she forcibly removed Gabriel from their presence and ushered the other curious guests (including a disgruntled looking Balthazar) back into the living area. Castiel sent grateful thanks through their freaky twin connection (as Gabe referred to it) and looked back at Dean once they were alone again. He reached out to touch him, but Dean seemed suddenly uncomfortable and jumped back from Castiel’s hand.

‘Uh, I really should go,’ he spluttered, walking backwards towards the door.

‘I’m so sorry about him, Dea-’ Castiel began, but was cut off by Dean, holding his hand up and shaking his head.

‘It’s fine, really, Cas, but I have to go. I’ll text you, okay?’ Cas would have been worried, but the smile Dean gave him was genuine. ‘We’ll see a movie, yeah? Your choice, Cas. Anything you want.’

Cas smiled back as he followed Dean to the door and watched him fumble his way to the front steps. “Anything I want?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘You should be careful, Dean, Anna tells me I have terrible taste in films.’

‘Well that’s okay, Cas,’ Dean replied, grin widening, ‘I don’t think my attention’s actually going to be on the screen.’ Cas tilted his head in confusion, wondering what Dean might mean by that, and the gesture caused Dean to laugh heartily. ‘Goodnight, Cas.’ He waved as he edged back and turned away, shoulders still shaking as he laughed all the way to the street.

 

Cas stood and watched him drive away in a black behemoth of a car, it’s beauty classic and commanding, much like Dean himself, then closed the door and leant against it to catch his breath. He wondered how long he would have to wait until he could excuse himself from his own party to hide away in his room and take a long, long shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cas' Outfit](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/image/161486997418)
> 
>  
> 
> [Gabe's Place](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/darter-blue)


	4. The Date - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is some smut... (check for some additional tags now)
> 
> also note: Sexy Hipster is Cas' contact in Dean's phone - the text messages are coming through in Dean's POV, and he doesn't really know Cas that well yet...

 

It was only just past midnight and Dean had already jacked off twice. These days Dean usually had a better handle on his libido, probably due to the combined effort of his hormones calming down - post puberty - and his ability to pick up reaching an almost professional level (now that he was an actor, it was practically tax deductable research). But that kiss, well, Dean had left Gabe’s house with his dick so hard he’d had to palm himself through his jeans all the way home just to keep the pressure from busting through his zipper.

When Dean had called Cas over to say goodbye he’d intended to leave him a little hot and bothered and keep him wanting more. But Cas had just leant right in and pressed his lips against Dean’s, opening up the wet heat of his mouth for Dean to get lost in, and the plan had backfired. He was lucky Gabriel McDouche-bag had interrupted them before he lost control and ripped off Cas’ stuffy cardigan, tore through every button on his crisp white shirt and sucked purple bruises down the exposed flesh of his (assumedly) gorgeous abdomen.

So once he made it into his apartment, it had taken all of five minutes for Dean to stroke himself into coming. And then he’d stepped into the tiny shower of the tired and aging bathroom and took his time working up to an intense second orgasm with only the image of Cas’ blue eyes and the feel of his pink, luscious mouth to bring him home. It was after he’d finally crawled into bed with wet hair and soft sweatpants, that he checked his phone and noticed a text from Cas.

**Sexy Hipster:** Hello Dean. There’s a screening of True Romance at the New Beverly tomorrow. 8pm.

Dean chuckled at the greeting, of course Cas would sound formal even by text message. And he’d already found a movie, which meant he was keen, right? So Dean must have done something right with that kiss, even if he’d had to practically sprint from the house right after.

**Me:** True Romance? Sounds like a chick flick...

**Sexy Hipster:** Dean, True Romance is a Tarantino classic (one he wrote but did not direct). Regardless, you said I could pick whatever I wanted. Don’t worry, it has lots of manly violence and explosions.

Well, Dean probably deserved that, and explosions and violence did sound pretty cool.

**Me:** Ok. I can dig it. Pick U up at 7?

He googled the movie while he waited impatiently to hear back from Cas and was pretty impressed with the search results. It looked kind of badass. And Christian Slater was hot, for a short guy.

**Sexy Hipster:** I look forward to it. Should I eat first?

Dean had weighed up about suggesting dinner first, but was kind of apprehensive at the sort of restaurant he thought Cas might be into. Even with all the extra money he had coming in at the moment, fancy ass dining was not on Dean Winchester’s ‘to do’ list. Playing it safe and saving dinner for a later date seemed like the best thing to do.

**Me:** Up to U? But I’ll pbly fill up on junk at the movie. Love me some popcorn

The next text came through almost immediately.

**Sexy Hipster:** Can I get twizzlers???

Dean actually laughed out loud as he read the response. He could just imagine Cas like an adorable five year old, with eyes wide as dinner plates, at the excitement of a packet of strawberry licorice.

**Me:** Cas, Ur the boss of U, rmr? U can have all the twizzlers U want

**Sexy Hipster:** Thank you, Dean. I knew I liked you.

Dean’s smile was so wide it actually hurt his face. If he hadn’t been so tired, he might’ve been more worried about the fact that he was already planning their future date escapades, but as it was, he just lay back, got comfy, and enjoyed the feeling of being happy for a change.

The next day had him uncharacteristically animated. It wasn’t a first date and they’d already kissed, it was totally crazy for Dean to be so amped up. But maybe it was because _everything_ with Cas so far had been uncharacteristic, the slow build up from their first meeting, the holding hands, the electricity that just sort of existed between them, that the anticipation was warranted. Dean just didn’t recognise it, because he’d never felt it before. He nailed his call back for a small part in a studio movie that had great dialogue (not a lot, but even Dean knew that you could make an impression with a small part in a good movie) so he was already on a high when he rolled up outside Gabe’s and jogged up to the front door.

 

He knocked with one crooked finger and tried to remember to breathe as the door opened in. _This must be what hipster porn looks like_ , Dean thought, taking stock of the mouthwatering, boner inciting man staring back at him. Cas in a cardigan was adorable. _This_ Cas was something else. Form fitting dark blue jeans, a tight white tee with thin black stripes under a tailored black blazer and that stupid green belt, barely visible where he was loosely tucked in at the waist. The white converse on his feet were relaxed and it all seemed so effortless that Dean felt suddenly self conscious. He was especially intimidated by the belt, fearing that Cas was comically out of Dean’s league if he could wear a thousand dollar belt so casually.

‘What are you wearing?’ Dean asked breathlessly, before he could remind his brain to keep cool and be casual.

This?’ Cas asked, confused. ‘What’s wrong with this?’ he looked down, worried, to see what might be offensive about his outfit.

‘No, nothing,’ Dean stammered, ‘It’s just a bit fancy for the movies. Isn’t it?’

‘Oh,’ Cas’ face fell. ‘Should I change?’ he asked, stepping back to let Dean into the house.

‘No, no. I feel a bit underdressed now is all. I look all frumpy compared to you.’ Which he knew wasn’t true. Dean looked great in his plaid button down over a plain white t-shirt and dark tan cargo pants, but it was totally overshadowed by Cas’ understated elegance.

‘Oh, Dean,’ Cas said, brightening back up with a huff of warm laughter, ‘even in a potato sack you wouldn’t look frumpy.’ Dean was pleased to have cheered Cas back up but rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly at the praise. ‘And I’m just me,’ Cas said good naturedly, ‘so there’s no comparison,’ totally oblivious to how gorgeous he was.

Dean laughed at what he thought was a joke. ‘Yeah right, you’re fucking hot, Cas. You know that.’ Because he must know what he looked like. Dean had seen at least twenty mirrors in Gabe’s house yesterday, he must have looked in _one_. But Cas was peering at him with a strange expression.

‘You think that?’ he said, eyes wide. ‘You think I’m...hot?’

Dean tried not to look as sceptical as he felt. ‘Surely you know I do.’

‘I don’t,’ Cas said, shaking his head, ‘I mean, I didn’t.’ He pulls at the cuffs of his blazer like it makes him uncomfortable. ‘Gabe always tells me I dress like someone’s grandfather.’

Dean tried to hide his grin, knowing it might embarrass Cas. ‘I get more of a sexy professor vibe, myself.’

Cas’s cheeks flushed at that. ‘Sexy?’

‘With that hair?’ Dean said, ‘and those cheekbones?’ taking a step towards him, ‘and that body, Cas?’ another step, ‘definitely sexy.’ He stopped just shy of Cas’ personal space but leant his body in slightly, as if Cas was magnetised. ‘You have this pull on me, Cas. Makes it really hard not to touch you.’

Cas’ body pressed forward in response, so that they stood mere inches from each other. ‘You can touch me, Dean,’ he said nervously, gaze shifting from Dean’s hands, to his lips and back to his eyes, ‘if you want.’ Dean’s senses were overloaded with a rush of lust and he dropped his forehead to rest gently against Cas’, blissfully thankful for Gabriel’s absence, evident in the silence of the house.

‘You’re so beautiful, Cas, everything about you... God, you have no idea’ A small part of Dean was aware that he was here to pick Cas up for a movie, not to get him naked and lick every sliver of skin he could get his tongue to, but not much registered in Dean’s brain beyond how good it had felt to hold Cas, kiss Cas. The idea that he could have that again, but more - _more_ and _uninterrupted -_ was exhilarating _._

 

Cas nestled his nose into Dean’s and tilted his head up slightly. His mind blanked as Cas’ breath crept over his cheek, possibly a side effect of all the blood suddenly rushing to his cock. ‘Fuck, Cas, the things I want to do to you...’ he said with an escaped puff of air.

Cas reached up to run his thumb along Dean’s jaw. ‘You should do them, Dean’ he whispered, embracing the fact that this evening had gone totally off track. ‘You should definitely do them.’

With that, Dean’s tightly wound control snapped and he grabbed Cas with one hand on the curve of his back while the other cupped his face. Dean could feel how much Cas was on board with the change in pace by the strength of the erection pressed against his and the single, subtle thrust of Cas’ hips into Dean’s groin.

‘Come on,’ Dean said, breaking away to lead an eager Cas by the hand to the bedroom, closing the door behind them. He pulled Cas in by the waistband of his jeans and spun him around so that the back of Cas’ thighs were against the bed.  ‘This fucking belt,’ Dean vexed, sighing into Cas’ mouth and unlatching the buckle, ‘is coming _off_!’ He whipped it through the belt loops, tossing it across the room.

Cas laughed without pulling away from Dean’s mouth and continued to smile as Dean slid his hands under his blazer to slide it off his shoulders, down his arms and to the floor. He grabbed the hem of Cas’ shirt and ripped it up over his head, pushing him onto the bed once it was gone. Dean crawled over Cas and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down off his legs and tossing them, along with his converse, across the room. The sight of Cas lying beneath him in nothing but skin tight, dark grey Calvin Kleins, had him leaking precome into his own boxer briefs..

‘Dean.’ Cas grumbled, shaking him out of his reverie. Dean raised his eyebrow in response. ‘You’re making a mess,’ he admonished playfully.

‘Hush, I’m trying to be seductive here,’ Dean said, still reeling at the sight of Cas underneath him. Imagining how lithe and firm Cas might be under all those cardigans could not prepare Dean for how fucking intoxicating it would be to see it and feel it confirmed in reality.

‘Well don’t stop on my account,’ Cas teased, smiling softly. Dean shushed him with a kiss, taking Cas’ hands and placing them above his head, pinning them gently to the bed.

‘Don’t move.’ He said with a playful force that had Cas nodding in submission. He kissed his way down Cas’ body, stopping to bite his teeth around the tightly stretched flesh of his hip bone and groaned at its perfection. He tucked his finger into the waistband of Cas’ underwear and slowly pulled them down and away, halting the climb back up his body to kiss the inside of Cas’s upper thigh.

Dean felt Cas reach down to touch him, and grabbed his roaming hands to force them back up above his head.

‘Uh uh, no moving,’ he said, breathless but authoritative, and Cas moaned back in frustrated amusement. Dean ignored him with a grin and made his way back to Cas’ hip bone, nuzzling into it and placing a reverent kiss there before slowly moving through thick, dark hair to trace his tongue along the length of Cas, taking the head of his cock into his mouth and swallowing it down.

Cas hissed a sharp breath and reached down to grab Dean’s hair in both hands. Dean pulled his mouth away, jumping up and catching Cas’ hands to pin them above his head again, relishing the sight of Cas’ pupils blown wide and the erratic inhalation and exhalation of air.

‘I said,’ Dean growled, low but teasing, ‘ _no_ moving.’ And Cas’ hips thrust involuntarily at the command, forcing a stuttered gasp from Dean at the friction of their body’s connection. Dean shook his head and raised an eyebrow, and Cas could only bite his lip and hurriedly nod his understanding, his brain presumably incapable of forming words. Dean was suddenly glad for the accidental foresight of coming a second time the night before, knowing this would otherwise have been over way too quickly, interrupting his single minded mission to make sure Cas came screaming his name, etching himself into Cas’ muscle memory and taking up residence there.

 

Looking down into those too blue eyes as he pinned a deliciously naked Cas to the bed beneath him, no one was more surprised than Dean when the warm, tender trust in their expression was the hottest thing he’d seen all day.

 

_******_

 

Cas’s expectations for the evening had been many, and varied, but nothing could have prepared him for the unbelievably voracious ministrations of the sex god, Dean Winchester. He had never, absolutely never, felt so good, so _high_ in all his life. Cas presumed that as a twenty four year old he was adequately versed in sexual experience and a knowledge of his own body’s needs and wants. Boy was he wrong, wrong, _wrong_ . Dean had manhandled him, dominated him, literally stripped him bare and pinned him to the bed and Cas was _loving_ it. He had always assumed such treatment would feel oppressive or demoralising but in actuality it was fucking _insanely_ hot. He was so turned on, he was afraid the intensity of his erection was potentially physically dangerous.

 

His only current frustration was that Dean would not allow him to reciprocate his attentions.

‘Dean,’ Cas whined, ‘let me touch you.’

‘Uh uh,’ Dean tisked, ‘this is about me touching you, remember?’

‘But I want to touch you too,’ he replied, catching his breath as Dean mouthed over his nipple, writhing at the feel of his teeth sinking in gently, tongue laving, lips pressing.

‘You’re the birthday boy, let me take care of you.’ He said devilishly, fully aware of the effect he was having. Cas arched his back at the brush of fingers up his inner thigh and failed to verbalise the argument that Dean had already given Cas a present. The bracelet was, in fact, the only thing Castiel was presently still wearing.

‘Dean,’ he gasped, trying to convey a reprimand while his brain fought to form words.

‘Next time, baby,’ Dean panted into Cas’ mouth between kisses, ‘I promise.’ And Cas lost himself in the sensation, thrilled at the idea that Dean already felt they would be getting a ‘next time’.

 

When Dean gently pressed his fingers against Cas’ lips he drew them in and circled them with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. The reaction that elicited from Dean had Cas feeling secretly proud of the accomplishment. Still with one hand pinning Cas’ arms above his head, Dean removed his fingers to replace them with his mouth and Cas let out a low moan as those fingers slid slowly along the delicate skin between his legs and around the tight muscle of his asshole.

‘Oh my _god_ ,’ Cas hummed frantically into Dean’s mouth, chasing the kiss even as Dean turned him over flat onto his stomach and ran his hand along the length of Cas’ back.  Cas propped himself on his elbows to watch Dean over his shoulder as he lowered himself to lie between the V of Cas’ legs and grasp the underside of Cas’ thighs, spreading them and lifting them slightly. Cas remained transfixed as Dean’s head dropped out of sight and fingers were replaced by the delicate feel of a tongue licking around Cas’ sensitive rim. Cas threw his head back at the sudden pleasure of that tongue pushing harder, breaching his entrance and fucking into him.

 

Cas’ whole body was suddenly alight with sensation and all he could think was that it was almost too much. Not just because of the sensory overload, but because it was _Dean’s_ tongue inside him, slowly unravelling him, humming little noises of contentment that vibrated up through Castiel and settled with a warmth in his chest. Before Cas had a chance to feel trully overwhelmed, Dean pulled away and used his hands to direct him up onto his knees and keep his legs spread. He slid along Cas so that every surface of Dean’s chest pressed against him and then suddenly his lips were at Cas’ ear.

‘Where is your lube, Cas?’ Dean purred.

Cas fought not to lose himself in the feel of Dean’s fully clothed body flush against his nakedness. ‘It’s, um...’ Cas stammered, attempting to reclaim the power of speech. ‘It’s in the nightstand,’ he struggled to catch his breath, ‘top draw.’

Dean grinned and kissed Cas just below the ear, eliciting a shiver. Cas pushed him to respond in kind by rolling his hips back into the hard cock straining behind the surface of Dean’s pants. A low moan escaped Dean before he whispered, ‘don’t move,’  stepping off the bed to grab the lubricant.  Cas tracked the movement, unable to take his eyes off Dean, too far gone now to be ashamed of the position of his body and the sight he must present. It was totally alien and completely freeing to feel so unabashed and Cas suddenly realised how addictive sex could be, with the right person. For the first time in his life he felt safe to just give up control, and it was bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I had to split this chapter, it was just getting too long.
> 
> Stay tuned for the conclusion of sexy times - coming soon...
> 
> outfits:  <http://i.imgur.com/mhHArLJ.png>


	5. The Date - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is sexy times - part two
> 
> Cheers for waiting and thanks for reading guys. Keep your comments coming, I love to hear from you =)
> 
> PS, sorry for any Aussie spelling, I get a bit brain dead trying to edit it all out...

Dean sidled back up to kneel behind Cas, using one hand to desperately open his fly, release his cock, and stroke it twice, just to relieve some of the pressure. The sight of Cas underneath him, spread out for him, just waiting to be fucked, was almost enough to drive him over the edge. Dean took a breath to compose himself before gently pressing one slicked up finger against Cas’ already spit slick hole and then pushing in up to the first knuckle, finding a warmth and tightness there that left him shaking. 

‘Jesus, fuck, Cas, you’re so tight.’ He shuddered and Cas moaned in reply, head thrown forward, no longer watching Dean. He gently pressed further, his finger reaching all the way into Cas and when the only response was the continued breathy sounds Cas was making and the slight canting of his hips, Dean added a second finger and slowly began to work Cas open. 

Dean nearly lost it when Cas started to fuck back onto his fingers in earnest.  ‘Holy fuck,’ Dean whispered to himself at the sight of Cas rocking up and into him, eyes open again and latched onto Dean now. ‘You want more, baby?’ asked Dean, Cas nodding feverishly as he added more lube to a third finger.  

‘Yes,’ Cas huffed through strangled breaths and then cried out softly, his back arched, whole body shivering , when Dean brushed against his prostate. Dean grinned at how much Cas was enjoying just his fingers, impatient now to be fully inside him but wanting to make sure he didn’t go too far, too fast. So Dean continued to scissor into Cas, adding a fourth finger and sporadically brushing against his prostate to keep him writhing and muttering incoherently beneath him.

‘Are you ready, Cas,’

‘Yeah, yes, mm hmm.’ Cas babbled and Dean would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so ruined by it. 

Dean rolled on a condom from his back pocket and added more lube, stroking himself, having stayed rock hard through all of Cas’ preparation. God, the sounds he had ripped out of Cas, the greedy way he had thrust back again and again onto Dean’s fingers, desperately trying to find a fuller, deeper pressure, had Dean reciting Clayton Kershaw’s pitching stats just to keep from blowing his load before he’d even lined himself up. 

 

Dean took one deep, calming, centering breath and pressed the head of his cock into the deliciously tight heat of Cas’ ass. Cas let out a long, low moan as Dean pushed carefully inside him, needing a moment to collect himself before Cas rocked back intently and bottomed Dean out. Dean closed his eyes and threw his head back as the pleasure began to build in him and he gently increased his speed until he was thrusting in earnest. Cas pushed back to meet every thrust and they moved together, Dean manipulating their bodies so that he pressed against Cas’ prostate over and over. Cas shook, overwhelmed, and his movements become erratic, his breathing faster and harder. Dean pulled Cas up off the bed and against him, arm around his chest holding him steady, changing the angle and drawing out another ethereally soft cry. 

 

From that angle he could look down the length of Cas’ body and marvel at how amazing he was. It wasn’t that Dean had never fucked a hard-body before (he had) and it wasn’t that Cas looked like some photoshopped model (he didn’t) it was the slight tan of his skin and the understated muscles that he could feel under Cas stomach. It was the softness of his slim waist and the jut of those hipbones (his entire bone structure was worthy of some kind of award, fucking hell) and the way he now held both of Dean’s hands against himself as they wrapped around Cas’ chest. It was his eyes, staring up at Dean as they faced each other over Cas’ shoulder, that somehow conveyed all of the wonder and innocence and lust and joy that Cas was feeling in that moment and just unabashedly let Dean see that he felt it. 

Dean was suddenly struck with the feeling that he could be happy getting used to this, would be happy to hold onto Cas just like this and never let him go. He bit gently into the flesh between shoulder and neck and sucked possessively, hard enough to mark but not to hurt. The thought of, not owning Cas, but having him belong to him, was pushing Dean to breaking point. The head thrown back into his shoulder, eyes closed now and bottom lip held firmly between teeth let Dean know that he wasn’t the only one close to the edge.

The whispered demand, ‘come for me, Cas,’ had Cas arch and throw his whole body backwards - enough that Dean’s legs could barely hold them upright - and Dean’s orgasm ripped through him, leaving them both to collapse into the mattress together. They lay silently like that for a minute, catching their breath, before Dean pulled out and removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the trash can between the desk and the bed.

Cas looked over at Dean and smiled lazily. ‘I think we missed the movie.’ 

Dean huffed a laugh and pulled Cas into his arms, wrapping them around his chest and tucking his chin over Cas’ shoulder. ‘You didn’t get your twizzlers.’ 

‘I got something better,’ Cas said softly, turning slightly in Dean’s arms to look back up at him. Dean looked down and let the warmth of the affection in Cas’ gaze settle into him. 

‘Oh yeah?’ Dean asked playfully, one quirked eyebrow.

Cas laughed and pressed a soft kiss at the corner of Dean’s mouth. ‘Yeah.’

‘I’m gonna use that as a benchmark. “Better than twizzlers”. I’ll put it on my resume.’

‘You’re not supposed to sass someone after sex.’ Cas said, reaching back to elbow Dean in the stomach sleepily. ‘Well, I mean. I assume not.’ Cas continues after a bit. ‘I’m probably not really qualified to make a definitive statement.’

The words sounded lighthearted, but Dean was struck by the realisation that he still didn’t actually know Cas that well. And knew nothing about his sexual experience. He often forgot that not everyone was as free and easy with fucking as he was. 

‘What do you mean by  _ not qualified _ ?’ Dean asked, carding his hands through Cas’ hair and keeping his tone breezy.

‘Just that I haven’t had that much sex, I guess.’ Cas replied, not meeting Dean’s eye. ‘And that maybe I’ve been doing it wrong.’ He didn’t seem embarrassed, but shy perhaps. ‘It’s never felt like that before,’ he finished quietly. 

‘Cas,’ Dean tucked his finger under Cas’ chin and tilted his head up so that their eyes met. ‘As someone who’s had a  _ lot _ of sex, let me tell you, it’s never felt like that for me either.’ The smile Cas gave in response was wide, expressed in every corner of his face. He twisted in Dean’s arms to reach up and kiss him, open mouthed and passionate. Cas seemed to interrupt himself though, when he gripped onto the fabric of Dean’s shirt.

‘How are you still fully dressed and I am wearing nothing?’

‘It’s a good look for you, babe.’ Dean said with a grin, but Cas shook his head and rolled Dean onto his back, surprising him with the strength of his smaller frame. 

‘Nuh uh,’ Cas said, undoing the buttons of Dean’s shirt as he straddled his waist. ‘This is all coming off.’

Dean had to sit up a little so that they could get his shirt off his arms and start working on the t-shirt underneath. 

‘You said next time I could touch you, I want to touch you, Dean.’

‘Yeah, but I meant like, tomorrow maybe. I’m not sure I’m ready to go again, Cas.’

‘Now, Dean.’ Cas practically growled, reaching down to kiss Dean again. Dean felt the electricity go straight to his dick and decided maybe he  _ was _ ready, kissing Cas back with all the energy he wasn’t using to get his pants off and start charging up for round two. 

 

*****

 

Castiel could feel the efforts of their first round and wasn’t sure he would be well equipped to walk the next day if he let Dean have him again. Add to that the fact that he had been denied touching Dean at all the first time, Cas was content to map out every inch of Dean, now that he was being allowed a second chance. So he traced the curve of Dean’s beautiful body with his tongue, drinking in all the magnificence he found there. He used his fingers to memorise the muscles of Dean’s abdomen (washboard, he thought might be the right word), the sculpted strength of his arms (obviously Dean was some kind of Marvel hero in his day to day life) and the trail of fair hair that led all the way down to the incredible cock that had been buried so deep inside Castiel barely fifteen minutes ago. Dean strained beneath Cas as he stroked his hand through that trail and all the way down to the skin at the underside of Dean’s perfect, round ass. He copied that movement again with his tongue, this time getting a whole body jerk out of Dean as he lay between his thighs and took his entire length into his mouth until it hit the back of his throat.

‘Fuck!’ Dean cried out, ‘Jesus Christ, Cas!’ and Cas could tell that he was good at this. He had in fact researched and practiced exactly how to do this to maximise Dean’s pleasure, in an attempt to impress Dean, assuming that Dean was far more experienced and wonderful than Cas would be in the bedroom. He hadn’t counted on the sheer magnetism of Dean’s sexual prowess actually imbibing Castiel and affecting his own capabilities so positively. And Cas was nothing if not an excellent study, picking up on all the cue’s Dean was sending, making sure to focus on the areas that caused the greatest responses. He seemed to particularly love the feeling of Cas’ finger inside him (wet still from the slick transfer of lube off Dean’s own hands), brushing against his prostate as he thrust himself over and over into Cas’ mouth.

 

And the sounds that Dean was making, gasping and moaning, calling out  _ Cas _ and  _ babe _ and  _ God  _ until he was incoherent with lust, they stiffened Castiel’s own semi erect cock until he was so hard it stood against his stomach and the friction from the bed was enough to ride Cas close to his climax. It was when Dean finally arched his back, twisted his hands roughly through Cas’ hair and dug his heels into the mattress, spurting hot, thick come down his throat, that Cas, swallowing desperately, reached his own orgasm, adding to the already mess covered bedspread underneath them. 

‘Holy shit!’ Dean huffed as he propped himself on his elbows to look down at Castiel. ‘Did you just cum?’ Cas was so wrecked he could only nod his assent. Dean leaned over and dragged Cas back up to his chest with inhuman strength. They lay like that for a while, Dean whispering his amazement at both the quality of Cas’ technique and the fact that he had come untouched until Cas was blushing furiously and burying his head in the crook of Dean’s arm. 

‘Cas, remind me to never not let you touch me again.’ Dean murmured into Cas’ ear, coaxing him back out from his hiding spot with a kiss to his temple.

‘Thank you, Dean. I would appreciate that.’

‘Hey, do you think we could maybe have a shower,’ Dean asked, ‘I feel kind of sticky and gross here.’

Cas, feeling the same but reluctant to move from the safety of Dean’s arms, nodded and got up slowly, leading Dean to the ensuite where they could take a shower together (Gabriel, of course, had double shower heads in all the bathrooms in the house). 

‘Jesus,’ Dean said as Cas started the water and adjusted the heat, ‘this bathroom is bigger than my entire apartment!’

‘You should see the main bathroom.’ Cas said with lazy humour. ‘It’s like a Greek bathhouse.’ 

‘Does your brother make all his money just from the studio?’ Dean asked as he soaped Cas up with a kind of tender affection that had Cas’ heart racing, even through the bone deep exhaustion of having just orgasmed twice in half an hour. 

‘No, most of it is family money.’ he replied, smiling at the question in Dean’s expression.

‘How come-’ Dean started, but cut himself off before he could ask.

‘How come I’m living here if we have family money?’ Cas asked for him, ‘How come I don’t just get my own place?’ Dean nodded but looked embarrassed to be asking.  

‘It’s okay, Cas, you don’t have to tell me.’ 

‘No, I don’t mind.’ Cas replied, settling his hands on Dean’s soapy hips and absently rubbing circles into them. ‘Gabriel got his inheritance when he turned twenty-five.’ 

Dean nodded. ‘So you get yours next year?’

‘No.’ Cas said, and Dean looked at him with confusion. ‘I’ve been disinherited.’

‘What! What for?’

‘For leaving the family business and taking up my PhD in Literature.’ Dean looked livid on Castiel’s behalf and so he shrugged a  _ what can you do _ gesture in response. ‘I suppose I could’ve waited a year and just taken the money, but I called mother’s bluff. And here I am at Gabriel’s mercy, probably until I finish my thesis and get a job.’

Dean looked Cas up and down and then leaned in to give him a slippery hug. ‘Aren’t you mad?’

‘I was. I’m sort of over it now.’ He said with a sigh. ‘It’s just not worth expending all my energy on being angry, you know? I’d rather use it to get published first class and show them how brilliant I am.’

‘Good for you.’ Dean said encouragingly, ‘but all that money, Cas.’

‘It’s just money.’ Cas retorted.

‘Jesus, only rich people say shit like that.’ Dean said with a huff, then seemed to think better of it, ‘I mean, you know. People who’ve never been really poor.’ And Cas sensed that that was a subject close to Dean’s heart. 

‘I suppose that’s true.’ Cas said with placation. ‘I’ve just fallen back onto my rich brother. I don’t actually know what it is to struggle.’

Dean wrapped him up tighter, as if to disagree. ‘It still sucks that they don’t support you, Cas.’ Castiel nodded, glad that Dean could understand. The money didn't bother him that much, he just wished they cared enough to want him to be happy. 

 

They finished washing each other and then stepped out, wrapping up into soft towels and collapsing back onto the bed (without the bedspread), not bothering to redress. 

‘It was worse for Anna though.’ Cas said after a while, Dean brushing his fingers across Cas’ knuckles where their hands joined. 

‘Anna got disinherited too?’ Dean asked, looking over at Cas with sadness.

‘Yeah, years ago, she left to go to art school. And she was gone for so long without anyone to help her.’ Cas had missed her so much while she was gone.  It was hard on both of them, that time apart. But necessary, in a way, for them to learn and grow. ‘But then she got the best kind of revenge,’ Cas laughed at the memory, ‘when it turned out that Dad’s will stipulated she get her inheritance when she got married, and mother couldn’t write her out.’

‘Anna’s married?’ Dean asked, eyes wide.

‘She was. She isn’t any more.’ Cas said softly. ‘Didn’t change anything though. She still got her money.’ Cas was so proud of what she had made with that money too, putting most of it into her art and supporting other young artists with scholarships. He was pretty lucky, really, to have two such wonderful siblings. ‘Hey, Dean?’

‘Yeah, Cas?’

‘You hungry?’ Dean sat up and leaned over to raise his eyebrow.

‘I could eat.’ He said with a laugh.

‘Should we order a pizza?’

Dean sat all the way up at the sound of ‘pizza’ and nodded with enthusiasm. 

 

Later, they sat at the stools of Gabriel’s kitchen counter, eating pizza and laughing at Dean’s stories of he and his brother’s crazy childhood. Though he could tell that Dean obviously loved his brother, it also seemed as if he spoke with a kind of mordacity, as if they had been through as much pain as joy, but the bad stuff was filtered out to avoid awkward questions. 

‘Do you miss him?’ Cas asked, impressed by the pride Dean displayed at his brother’s achievements.

‘Who, Sam? Yeah, but it’s a five hour drive, you know. I do it as much as I can.’ Cas nodded. ‘And he’s coming for most of August actually, so that’ll be awesome!’ Dean smiled, ‘You could meet him!’ he said excitedly, and then Cas could see him second guess himself and reign it in, shrugging a little. ‘I mean, if you want.’

Cas put his hand on Dean’s knee and looked up into his gorgeous green eyes. ‘I would love that, Dean.’

Dean smiled and leaned in to kiss Cas, both of them tasting like bacon and barbecue sauce. ‘Me too, Cas’ he said, licking his lips, ‘me too.’


	6. The Wedding - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of this chapter - 
> 
> and additionally, sorry to drag it out into two parts! oops!
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting - you guys are giving me happy feels <3

  


Dean wasn’t used to waking up in a strange bed. It might sound weird, knowing how often he’s happy to go home with strange people, but he’s almost never happy to actually _sleep_ with anyone. Going to sleep next to somebody requires a level of trust and intimacy that’s uncomfortable for him. But Dean realised, as he eased through the transition from sleep to waking, not only had he slept _next_ to Cas but curled tightly _around_ him, with Cas’ soft but crazy mop of dark hair tucked up under Dean’s chin, breathing quietly into his collarbone, elegant hands folded up into Dean’s chest.

 

And god, Dean should have been _freaking_ . By all accounts, _would_ have been freaking, except the man in his arms was so warm, and smelled so good, and was making these little mewly sleep noises that reminded him of a kitten, that he just smiled into the hair tickling his bottom lip and drank in the beauty of being wrapped around _Cas._ He spent a few minutes appreciating, not only the feel, but the view of Cas. Sheets pulled up to their waists and dressed only in cotton boxers, Dean was afforded front row seats to Cas’ long, lean, lines and taut, tanned skin. He skimmed his fingers experimentally across the top of Cas’ shoulder blade and down to the curve of his spectacularly tight, round, ass. It felt so right just to rest his fingers there and stroke back and forth with his thumb, he was too afraid to check the time on his phone and find that he would have to stop.

 

‘Mmm…’ hummed a voice muffled by his chest, ‘I had a dream just like this.’ Dean huffed a laugh at Cas and the way he buried his head deeper into Dean to hide from the morning.

‘A good dream?’ Dean asked, voice still rough from sleep.

‘A _very_ good dream,’ Cas said, twisting his head and looking up at Dean from beneath his lashes, cheeky grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Dean reached down to catch it in a kiss and give a cheeky grin of his own.

‘Hmm, so in this dream, Cas,’ Dean stopped stroking long enough to give Cas’s left ass cheek a firm squeeze, ‘what happens next?’

‘That depends,’ Cas said quietly, ‘do you want the real ending, or a sexy ending?’

Dean looked down at Cas with surprise, ‘it didn’t have a sexy ending?’

‘No,’ Cas said, hiding his face back into Dean’s chest. He peeked back out sheepishly when Dean prodded him to go on. ‘It’s embarrassing.’ Which of course left Dean greedy to know. And he was not above using dirty tactics to find out, reaching back up to rest his hands just above Cas’ hips.

‘I think you should tell me Cas,’ he said, running his blunt nails across the soft flesh beneath his fingers. ‘I seem to remember you being a bit squirmy around this area’ and Cas stiffened and pulled away from the deliberate tickling sensation of Dean’s touch.

‘Dean no!’ he cried, snorting as he tried to hide a giggle, ‘thats cheating!’

‘That’s something you should know about me, babe. I don’t play fair, I play to win.’ and he emphasised the point by tickling with more aggression.

‘Alright, alright, I yield.’ Said Cas, panting for breath and trying to worm out of Dean’s clutches.

‘Damn right,’ replied Dean, cocky with the upper hand, ‘so spill, hot stuff.’

Cas raised his eyebrow at the nickname and barely managed to contain the smile in his eyes. He shook his head and huffed a small laugh in defeat.

‘Okay, alright,’ Cas started, ‘did I mention that my mother’s getting married in two weeks?’

‘I may have overheard some wedding talk,’ Dean replied, remembering Anna’s outburst at the studio and having overheard talk from some of the guests at Cas’ birthday. He hadn’t paid much attention once he knew it wasn’t Cas getting hitched, he wasn’t really a _wedding_ guy.

‘Well, I offered to help make the arrangements - before the falling out, you understand - to possibly help ease any anger she might have at my new career choice,’ Dean nodded along when Cas looked up to gauge his interest, ‘and even though it failed spectacularly...’ Dean scowled at the thought of Cas’ family being such a giant bag of dicks, (how dare _anyone_ toss Cas to the curb, it wasn’t like he was smoking crack, he was doing a fucking PhD for Christ’s sake! They should be god damn proud of how beautiful and amazing he was) and shook himself to tune back in when he realised that Cas was still talking. ‘...and so because I’m still technically invited, I want to be there to show I’m still loyal to my family,’ Dean wanted to kiss the sadness from Cas’ expression, ‘even if they aren’t loyal to me.’

Dean reached down to wind his fingers through Cas’, ‘Remind me again what this has to do with me and your dream?’ he said as respectfully as he could.

Cas blushed before stammering, ‘well, in my dream we end up at the wedding together, and everyone is so envious of you as my date, I can hold my head high.’ Cas looks up at Dean with a fondness that has Dean melting. ‘And we had these matching floral boutonnieres and it was cute and sappy,’ Cas swallows and hastens to add, ‘and dumb, I know,’ when he spots Dean’s frown.

‘It’s not dumb, Cas,’ Dean replied softly, though the idea of Cas wanting to take him to a wedding, a _family_ wedding, had Dean’s blood pressure rising with the early onset of panic. ‘I’m just not, you know, I’m not really into weddings.’

‘Oh no! I would never dream of asking that of you, Dean.’ Cas looked up at Dean and propped himself onto his elbows to reach his eye level. ‘Well, I guess that’s a poor choice of words, but I would never have asked such a thing of you in _reality_ ,’ and Dean’s heart broke a little as Cas tried to subtly distance himself from Dean on the bed. ‘We hardly know each other.’

 

Dean immediately felt the loss of warmth as Cas slid over and out of the bed, getting up to pull on his shirt and, though Dean could appreciate the stretch and length of his muscular frame - as could his dick - he mourned the playful easiness of their mornings exchange.

‘Cas, I -’

‘Would you like some breakfast?’ Cas interrupted, ‘I could make pancakes?’ and he smiled as he asked, but with only a brief hint of the happiness that Dean was used to seeing there. ‘Why don’t you use the ensuite and I’ll use the bathroom downstairs. You can meet me in the kitchen when you're ready.’ Cas turned and left before Dean had a real chance to respond.

‘Well… Fuck.’ Fucking, fuck, fuck.

 

The minutes Dean spent peeing and washing his face to try and snap himself properly awake, he simultaneously used to figure out how to get back into the happy, intimate bubble he had woken up in with Cas.  He redressed into his white Tee and cargo pants, which had made it through the night’s activities and turned up surprisingly clean, and decided a spontaneous show of affection might work. A display which, seeing as how his body seemed to want to constantly reach out and touch Cas without conscious thought, took almost no effort at all on Dean’s part. By the time he got downstairs, Cas was cracking eggs into a bowl of flour, wearing his striped T shirt and a pair of grey sweats and looking like a fucked-out sex machine with his bed hair all over the place, dark stubbled jaw and bare feet shuffling around the tiled kitchen floor. Dean walked up behind him and reached to latch his hands together around Cas’ waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.

‘Good morning.’ He said, pitching his voice as low as he was able.

‘Good morning?’ Cas replied with confusion.

‘Can we start today again?’ Dean whispered, watching Cas’ expression soften at the prospect of putting their crappy conversation behind them.

‘Sure,’ Cas whispered back with a grin.

‘You look good enough to eat,’ Dean purred, kissing Cas just below his ear. Cas laughed and leaned into the press of lips as Dean kissed him again, a little bit harder and longer, before letting go and going to sit at the counter opposite Castiel.

 

Dean admired his handy work in the flush of colour across Cas’ cheek bones and let a comfortable silence fall between them as he watched Cas cook. They ate together at the table and chatted about Gabriel (probably upstairs, dead to the world, according to Cas) and Anna (who had celebrated her birthday with her artsy friends at some underground club that Gabriel had most likely invited himself to) and other random crap (Dean was mostly just watching Cas’ mouth work around his fork to be honest) before Cas cleared his throat and put his cutlery down.

‘So I probably should tell you, despite the awkwardness this morning, that I had actually organised my plus one for the wedding weeks ago.’ Cas looked at Dean as he spoke, with a crazy intensity in his too blue eyes, probably waiting for Dean to be a dick again. Dean for the most part, felt stunned. Not so much by the comment, but by the stab of jealousy it triggered in him. A white hot possessiveness seemed to swell up and push him to tell Cas he was no way allowed to take some other dude to his mother’s wedding. He tried to squash the feeling down, but it was persistent.

‘Oh yeah?’ he said somewhat darkly followed by an awkward cough to clear his throat.

‘Yeah,’ Cas said hesitantly, ‘I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just a friend.’

‘Okay,’ he tried to keep his reply light, ‘I mean, it’s good that you have someone to support you.’ Cas seemed to visibly relax at Dean’s reasonableness.

‘Thank you, Dean.’ He said softly. ‘I um, I actually have class today’ he added apologetically.

‘Right, yeah. I have a shift this afternoon, I should get out of your hair.’

‘You’ll be at the coffee shop later?’ Cas asked. Dean nodded. ‘Well, maybe I could stop by and see my favourite actor-slash-barista in action.’ Dean’s insides did a weird little flip-flop at that declaration.

‘If you came by at say, seven, I’d be just about ready to clock off…’ he said, a hint of expectation in his voice, ‘and maybe we could go see your movie?’

Cas smiled, wide and joyful, ‘I can stream it through Crackle, if you want to watch it here? Or at your place?’

‘Here is better,’ Dean said, thinking of his crappy apartment, ‘here is good.’

‘Okay,’ Cas said as they both got up from the table and took their plates to the sink, ‘I’ll meet you at Benny’s at seven and you can give me a ride home.’

‘Does that work okay for you?’

‘Yeah, I normally ride down to USC, but I can take the bus today. The cafe is on the way home.’ Dean shook his head at the idea of anyone using a bike or public transport, but thought better of voicing that opinion out loud. Instead he leant over and caught Cas in a long, loaded, explorative kiss.

‘Perfect.’ He breathed between Cas’ parted lips. He wasn’t entirely sure he meant the kiss or the plan. Both, probably. Cas just smiled and kissed him back before they had to pry themselves apart from each other so that Cas wouldn’t be late for the bus. Dean left with a spring in his step, narrowly avoiding Gabriel as he trudged downstairs to the lingering smell of pancakes.

 

It was just after Dean got home and well before he was expected at work that he got a text from the studio to say that his prints were ready to be picked up. He vaguely wondered who would be manning the desk if both Cas and Gabriel were out but decided it didn’t matter. He was anxious to see how they’d turned out and Pamela had been bugging him to get them to the agency ever since he’d told her he’d made the booking.

 

He showered and dressed in jeans and a dark grey short sleeved henley, his usual work stuff (though he took care to make sure they were his good jeans, and that particular top had a pretty much one hundred percent success rate score-wise), and then headed back down to the Impala for the trip out to the studio. Parking downtown wasn’t such a bitch this time knowing the studio would validate and so Dean made it with plenty of time to still get to work without pissing Benny off for being late.

 

His good mood evaporated though as soon as he walked in to see the creepy blond English guy, Bal-blah-blah, manning the reception desk and fawning all over the most attractively well-put-together guy that Dean had ever seen up close.

‘Ahh!’ cried blondie, interrupting Dean’s assessment (was this guy more attractive than Dean? How did he get his hair so perfectly coiffed? Was he actually wearing lip gloss?) ‘if it isn’t Cassie’s new little friend.’ And the smirk on Bla-whosit’s face was all grease and smarm.

‘Dean,’ Dean supplied his name grudgingly, never having been referred to as anyone’s ‘little friend’ before.

‘Dean, of course!’ cried smarmy-pants, all false cheer, ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’

Dean barely withheld the urge to snarl at the guy by taking a deep breath and counting down from five in his head. ‘I got a text to come pick up my headshots?’ he took the fact that he had _not_ said that through gritted teeth as a win.

‘Sure, sure,’ chimed the Brit, ‘let me just nip out and grab them for you. This is Michael by the way,’ he said, gesturing to mister perfectly-coiffed, ‘he has the honour of escorting our lovely Castiel to Naomi’s wedding in a few weeks, the lucky devil.’ With that bombshell dropped, he dodged back into an adjoining room, presumably to find Dean’s photo’s.

 

Michael turned to Dean then, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and lifted his hand in greeting.

‘Dean, was it?’

‘Yeah,’ Dean replied, trying to swallow the frog in his throat while meeting Michael’s hand to shake, ‘how’s it hanging?’ Michael merely smiled dryly in response. ‘So, uh, how do you know Cas?’ he could feel his palms getting sweaty and wiped them discreetly on the legs of his jeans.

‘Oh, we go way back,’ Michael replied, crossing his arms in some kind of power trip. It did make his biceps flex impressively, which only made Dean want to scowl and puff up his chest in response.

‘Yeah, he mentioned he was taking a friend.’ Dean said skeptically. He had not imagined this Roman statue style Ken doll (all olive skin, dark hair, gold eyes and pouty mouth) when Cas had mentioned it at breakfast.

‘I’m definitely looking forward to taking Cas out, now that he’s finally single again,’ Michael all but licked his lips at the prospect and Dean’s vision suddenly blurred, fading in from red at the edges.

‘Excuse me?’ He managed to spit out just as Britain’s-got-no-talent swaggered out from behind the counter to hand Dean a large, flat package.

‘Here we are then,’ he said, and stepped right between Dean and Michael, enthusiastically shoving the photo’s into Dean’s slowly unclenching fists. ‘Cassie assures me the invoice is settled, so they’re all yours,’ he looked at Dean with condescending expectation, ‘off you go then!’ and basically shooed him out to the elevator.

 

Dean let himself be led, fuming internally at being treated like a dumb kid, and even more so at the image of Michael pawing at Cas - _his_ Cas - at the very wedding that Dean had shot Cas down about not two hours before. Son of a _fucking_ bitch.

  
It wasn’t until he got back to the car that he realised, in fact, he had _not_ validated his parking, and that if he didn’t leave right away, he very much _would_ get his ass kicked for being late to work. And he still had about eight hours to stew about all this bullshit before he could see Cas again and figure out how to make the sinking feeling in his stomach go away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this all Deans POV - sorry! but Cas is up next - and hopefully not far away ;)
> 
> also, here is [Dean](http://imgur.com/a/jCSh4) in his 100% success rate top


	7. The Wedding - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops again - looks like there might be one more chapter after this.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Castiel couldn’t believe he had been so stupid, _so stupid_ , as to tell Dean about the Dream. Not only to mention it, but to consequently give him all the cringe worthy details. It was too much, _clearly_ too much information for such a young relationship.

 

If a relationship was even what they had. He knew that Dean was something of a Lad - by his very own admission - and Castiel had not held much back, in regards to his virtue. Perhaps Dean had got what he wanted and would be reluctant to pursue him further.

 

Then again, he hadn’t run screaming from Cas’ admission, just looked panicked and declined quite politely, under the circumstances. So maybe Castiel was overreacting. He had seemed very pleasant at breakfast, quick to sooth Cas’ bruised ego and to accept both the offer of a second date and the fact that Cas was taking Michael to the wedding. God, he was still mortified at being tickled into his embarrassing revelation. To be fair, he had no idea he would be so ticklish and that Dean could be so ruthless. And it had been such a nice dream, comforting and warm and settling all his nerves about facing Naomi again after the dust had settled over their exhausting familial argument. But it was useless to fret over it now. What was done was done. He was seeing Dean again at seven, he could just be as casual and nonthreatening as possible and hope to salvage the mess he had made of their morning.

 

Of course it was impossible to get any work done; Cas had stuttered and stammered his way through his comparative literature class so badly that four of his students had asked if he was feeling okay. And every sentence he read while researching had to be reread five times over just for Castiel to retain any of the information belied there. He had never been so glad for six o’clock to come around so that he could finally pack his work away and get to the bus stop in time to meet Dean. He briefly considered arriving late so as to really iterate the ‘casual’ attitude he was going for, but why start playing games? Castiel was only really good at being himself and, if he wasn’t wrong, it seemed to be something Dean admired about him. So he just resigned himself to himself and got to Benny’s with ten minutes to spare, punctual to a fault.

 

When he walked into the coffee shop his shoulders were slightly hunched and his chin was tucked into his chest, displaying what Anna referred to as his ‘lost puppy’ persona (she claimed ‘bad ass mo-fo’ to be the other extreme of his repertoire, reserved for seriously dire situations such as stepping in to defend her against her ex husband and standing up to Naomi). He looked up at the counter over the top of his glasses, having to push them up on his nose with an index finger to clear his vision and found Dean manning the coffee machine. He looked more beautiful than ever in a dark grey henley, hugging his muscular arms and chest in a way that elevated Cas’ blood pressure alarmingly. He gave a slight wave at chest height to offer greetings without interrupting service, but Dean jumped up at first sight of him, sporting a rather large grin and dashed out from behind the counter.

‘Hey Cas!’ he exclaimed, grabbing Castiel by the hand and dragging him in for a soft kiss, ‘you’re early.’ Dean stepped back a little but kept their hands clasped and waited for Cas to find his words. They were not forthcoming.

 

This was almost the very opposite of the scenario Cas had been dreading. It was like a fantasy, scarily close the the dream that Dean had been so panicked by only hours before, and Castiel wasn’t sure weather to embrace the ease or be wary of it. He decided it might be best to rest his emotional state somewhere in between.

‘Hello, Dean.’ He replied, discreetly bringing his hand to his lips when Dean looked away, surprised that Dean had kissed him so warmly in front of everyone (it was always busy at Benny’s cafe). ‘I’m happy to wait wherever, while you finish up your shift.’

‘Oh no, it’s fine! I can skip out early, Benny won't mind.’ Dean exclaimed happily, gesturing to the tall, bearded gentleman who had taken over barista duties. The man gave a short, two fingered salute at the mention of his name, in apparent agreement. ‘Oh wait, I saved these for you,’ Dean said, spinning around back to the counter and untying his apron. Dean picked up a pastry box that sat next to his phone and car keys on the back bench, pocketing his belongings and handing the box to Cas. ‘Okay thanks, Benny, see ya later!’ Dean called over his shoulder as he retook Castiel’s hand and pulled him toward the front door.

‘G’night, Dean, Cas. Nice to meet ya.’

‘Y-yes, and you,’ Cas said awkwardly, feeling as though he hadn’t met the man at all. He looked to Dean with raised eyebrows and Dean just smiled down at him full of charm and easy grace.

‘I may have been talking his ear off about you today,’ he admitted with a faint blush in his cheeks. ‘He was excited to see you in person.’

‘Oh, well,’ Cas hummed, embarrassed, ‘I hope I live up to the hype.’

‘You do, Cas, and then some. Trust me.’

And if Cas’ heart had just about melted in his chest at that declaration, it went all the way there when he opened the box to find two cupcakes, each with three small fondant bees sitting just off centre in yellow frosting.

‘Dean?’

‘They’re vanilla with a honey buttercream frosting,’ Dean explained, ‘I thought you’d like them, since you’re such a fan of bees.’

Cas was overwhelmed by the gesture, but aware enough to ask, ‘How did you know I like bees?’

Dean grinned at him with a kind of bashful innocence. ‘I may have been sorta creepin’ through your social media the last few days.’ And at that, Cas wasn’t sure weather to dance a jig or faint on the spot. All the time Cas had spent in the last week researching sex (and how to get it right), Dean Winchester had spent researching Cas. The smile on his face was gigantic, and completely involuntary.

‘Wow,’ was all he could manage to say.

‘Not creepy?’ Dean asked, a little frown between his eyebrows indicated he was worried about Cas’ reaction.

‘Well, not Norman Bates creepy. Romeo creepy, maybe.’

‘Hey!’ Dean punched Cas gently in the shoulder. ‘Romeo was not _creepy_.’

Cas smiled back and hip checked Dean in retaliation. ‘He was a little creepy,’ he said, and Dean frowned. ‘But _cute_ creepy,’ he clarified and Dean huffed a laugh in response. They made their way to Dean’s car with tangled fingers, Cas with his satchel bag over a shoulder and precious pastry box resting on an upturned palm and Dean looking lighter than Cas had yet remembered seeing him (in the short time they had known each other). Castiel experienced a moment of pure contentment for perhaps the first time ever in his life.

 

By the time they made it to Gabe’s place, Castiel's blood pressure had normalised (Dean had seemed impressed by Castiels appreciation of his ‘baby’ and spent a large portion of the drive lecturing him on General Motors and their superiority over all other cars - Cas remained quietly unconvinced) enough that he didn’t falter at Dean grabbing a duffel from his trunk and winking at Cas as they walked up to the front door. In fact he merely laughed and shook his head.

‘Well, I didn't want to do the walk of shame if I ended up staying over again.’ He said reasonably and Cas had to concede that it was a valid argument. He unlocked the door and led Dean through the house to the living room on the first story. ‘Also, I brought you these,’ Dean said as Cas placed his things onto (the cakes) and next to (his satchel) the coffee table, producing a giant bag of twizzlers from his duffel with a flourish. Castiel raised an eyebrow and pushed Dean backwards onto the couch with a huff, climbing over to straddle his lap and place both hands against the couch behind Dean’s head.

‘I’ll take that to mean I did good,’ Dean laughed, looking up at Cas with a satisfied grin.

‘You, Dean Winchester, might be my absolute favourite person.’ Dean laughed again but leant back when Cas attempted to lean in for a kiss.

‘Does that um, does that mean you’ll take me to your mom’s wedding?’ Cas sat back quickly and almost toppled off Dean’s lap, not quite believing he’d heard what he thought he’d heard. ‘Don’t get mad, but I um, I kind of ran into that Michael guy at the studio today and I,’ he looked up at Cas imploringly, ‘and I realised I really don’t want you to go to that wedding with anyone but me.’ He swallowed, nervous, and Cas was once again overwhelmed by the depth of Dean’s affection. ‘Like any wedding. Ever.’

 

Cas ran his hands through his hair anxiously, ‘Dean, Michael is just, well, he’s like family. We’re just going together for the sake of convenience, it doesn’t mean anything.’ and he looked to Dean to make sure that sentiment was being understood.

‘Cas, you shoulda heard what he said about you.’

‘What did he say.’

‘That you were single Cas - he said you were finally _single._  I wanted to punch his perfect, fat, face!’

‘Dean,’ Castiel said, absolutely endeared to this new, self conscious, jealous version of Dean. ‘He was probably just messing with you.’

‘What?’

‘Michael's family has known my family for years. He’s not even gay! He’s just kind of an asshole.’ he fought to hide his amusement at the image of Michael meeting Dean.

‘What? Seriously?’ Dean was incredulous. ‘I’ve been stressing out about this all day!’

‘Oh, Dean. I’m sorry.’ Dean shrugged in response. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I would much rather take you to the wedding than Michael.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Unequivocally.’

‘Well, then I guess I’d like to go with you.’

‘To my Mother’s wedding.’ Cas clarified.

‘Yes.’

‘And every subsequent wedding I may be invited to.’ He says with a grin.

‘Yeah, alright.’ Dean huffed.

‘Ever?’

‘Yeah, okay, okay. I know what I said but, let’s just see how we go at this one, alright?’ Dean shook his head, ‘I can make no guarantees I’ll be a good boyfriend.’ Cas’ heart leapt right into his throat.

‘Is that what you want?’

‘What? To be boyfriends?’ Cas nodded and held his breath. ‘I do, if you do?’

Castiel’s nod became emphatic, ‘I do.’

‘Then I guess it’s official.’ Dean said with a grin. Cas didn’t bother to reply with words. But he did use his mouth to express his enthusiasm.

 

On the morning of the wedding, Castiel woke up to Dean having stolen all the covers and rolled to the far side of the bed. This was how he has woken up for roughly twenty percent of the past eleven days. Another twenty odd percent had started with Dean wrapped tightly around him. The rest had been Cas waking up alone and though he much preferred waking up next to Dean, there was something to be said for having sole ownership of the bedding (Cas was quickly learning that Dean Winchester was a total blanket hog). He rolled over and snuggled into the warmth of Dean’s back and Dean in turn pulled Cas’ arm around his waist to clasp his hand up against his chest.

‘Dean,’ Cas whispered against the shell of his boyfriend’s ear. ‘We should get up.’

‘Later, babe, S’too early.’ Dean mumbled through his pillow.

‘Come and have a shower with me,’ Cas asked, leaning up on his elbow and further into Dean’s body. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’ Dean turned and cracked his eyes open at the offer.

‘I’m listening…’

‘Just imagine that perfect water temperature, the massaging pressure,’ Cas started, Dean humming with partially piqued interest. ‘Me on my knees, letting you fuck my face-’

‘Jesus _Christ_ , Castiel!’ Dean cried in a startled whisper and sat up quickly against the headboard. ‘Can you try _not_ to give me a heart attack at stupid o'clock on a Saturday.’

‘Dean, it’s past eight.’

‘Yeah but it’s _Saturday_ ,’ Dean whined.

‘The wedding’s today.’ Cas said with patience and Dean gave a small harumph of displeasure. ‘I’ll make you pancakes,’ he bribes.

‘With bacon?’

‘Definitely with bacon.’

‘And in the shower? You’ll get down on your knees for me Cas?’ Dean drawled. Castiel’s grin was slow and lazy in reply.

‘No, I changed my mind.’ Cas said, and Dean’s face fell before brightening right back up as Cas climbed over him to straddle his hips. ‘How about in the shower, _you_ get down on your knees for _me,_ Dean Winchester. And right here and now,’ Cas rolled his hips and slid his length along Dean’s already very attentive erection, ‘you fuck me so hard, I’ll be able to feel you all day.’ Dean’s eyes rolled back and he arched up into Cas’ movements in reply.

‘Oh _god_ yes, let's do that.’ Dean whispered and Cas smiled down into his already blissed out face. ‘Will it help you, babe?’ Dean asked quietly after minutes more of touching, green eyes searching Cas’ through a haze of pleasure, ‘knowing you can feel me all day?’

‘Yes, Dean,’ Cas breathed out as he opened himself up with slick fingers, ‘you always make me feel good.’ Good and safe, and _loved_ , though Cas didn’t say it out loud. He knew Dean wasn’t ready to hear it yet, even if he was almost sure it was true. And it was going to be such an awkward, anxious day, that every twinge of pain from the memory of Dean inside him would be like a drug he could feed off, pleasure he could escape into. He sank himself down onto Dean and slid his hands up Dean’s chest, brushing against his nipples, eliciting an arched back that thrust Dean even further into Cas’ tight hole. It felt so good that Cas lifted himself off and rocked back down fervently, over and over, increasing the pace and rolling is hips, clenching his muscles to ride Dean so hard that he was babbling incoherently. Dean’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back, arms reaching out to grip Cas by the hips, fingertips digging in with enough force to bruise and the sight was so beautiful Cas almost wished he could take a picture; a reminder that he got to have all of this and feel all of Dean, just for himself. Cas didn’t need to use any words, just traced his hands back up to Dean’s face, leaning down to kiss Dean as he came and then dragging him off to the shower so that he could finish in Dean’s mouth. It was a very nice way to start their morning.

 

After a huge breakfast and hours spent ping-ponging between getting ready and being lazy, Cas felt prepared to take on the rest of his family,with his two favourite siblings to cushion the Krushnic family blow (blunt force trauma was a legacy) and Dean as his anchor, to weight him with the knowledge that he was worth more than they would have him believe. The look on Dean’s face when he first caught sight of Castiel in his three piece, steel blue suit (painstakingly tailored by his friend Jesse, as part of his graphic design in fashion course at SC) and crisp white shirt had Cas feeling sinfully proud of himself. Dean of course, looked beautifully masculine in a dark blue button down, fitted brown blazer and so-navy-they-were-almost-black dress pants finished with a deep brown leather belt. Anna met them at the house in an absolutely stunning, royal blue, collared dress (a deep neckline, cuffed three-quarter length sleeves on the heavy textured fabric and a solid gold band for a belt would have guests turning their heads at her bold fashion choices all day) with impossible heels that left Gabriel (in a light grey suit, gingham shirt and bow tie) having to tilt his head up at everybody.

 

They were all to climb into baby for the drive to Santa Monica but Cas worried about the effort Anna had put into her hair and makeup that he decided to use a few well placed kisses and convince Dean to drive Gabe’s Jaguar (‘yeah, always knew he’d drive a Jag’ Dean had said, shaking his head when he saw it) with it’s necessary air conditioning. As Anna and Gabe toddled down to the car, Dean held Cas back with a light tug to his bicep and pulled him in for a quick, sweet, kiss.

‘Before we go,’ Dean said, leaning his forehead to rest gently against Castiel’s, ‘I have something for you.’ he pressed another quick kiss into Cas’ lips and then grabbed a box off the console in the foyer. ‘Open it.’

Cas pulled back the lid of the white box, expecting to see more fun cakes for Dean to tease Cas with (since the bees had been such a big hit, Dean had brought home two cupcakes in tiny jars (for my hipster boyfriend) and two that looked like mini cherry pies - _he’s my cherry pie_ , had been sung at him for days). Instead he found two small, strikingly blue flowers surrounded by baby’s breath that took him a moment to realise were matching boutonnieres. Cas couldn’t help the tears he felt threatening to spill over and tried to wipe them discreetly with the knuckle of his index finger.  

‘Dean,’ Cas exhaled, looking up into Dean’s very pleased expression and then back to the contents of the box.

‘I figured this way, it could be just like your dream.’ Dean explained, pulling out the little floral arrangement and fastening it to Cas’ lapel by magnetic clasp. ‘We can be cute and sappy, and you can hold your head high.’ Cas fumbled as he took the other and fastened it to Dean’s Blazer.

‘Dean, I… Thank you.’

‘I know you’re gonna feel me in that smokin hot ass of yours all day, babe, but this way, everyone that sees us will know that we’re together.’ Dean looked worried when Cas just kept staring, no idea how to put his thoughts into words. ‘Did I do good?’

‘You did perfect, Dean,’ Cas replied, ‘you’re perfect.’ They were interrupted by the sound of Gabe’s horn blaring and hurried to lock up and get to the car.

‘Come _on_ , you disgusting saps!’ Gabe cried from the back seat, Anna laughed joyously at the blush creeping up both their faces.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Dean huffed, ‘they’re better be good food at this thing, or you are gonna owe me so big.’ He pointed at Castiel as he walked around to the passenger side.

‘Don’t worry, Dean. You’ll be satisfied. I promise.’ Cas said back with a wink.

‘Christ alive, you’ve created a monster!’ Gabe exclaimed and Anna hid her face in her palms. Dean simply shook his head in reply but his smile was split from ear to ear. And with that they were on their way to the sprawling grounds of the Krushnic family residence and the cold embrace of its matriarchal bride-to-be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat with me on twitter:
> 
>  <https://twitter.com/beclouise13>
> 
> Cas' suit: <http://imgur.com/iwo0zrA>
> 
> Dean's outfit: <http://imgur.com/4KBou6n>
> 
> Anna's dress:<http://imgur.com/HmG1AlU>
> 
> The boutonniere: <http://imgur.com/LOeYQFj>


	8. Chapter 8 - The Wedding - Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the final installment folks!
> 
> (except there's probably - definitely - an epilogue coming soon)
> 
> As always - throw some love my way, any and all comments are read with glee and hearty feels :)

Dean had never seen a house like the Krushnic’s. It wasn’t even a house, it was a freakin’ Villa, some kind of celebrity cribs style mansion. Ushers took Gabe's Jag as soon as he drove onto the grounds and he watched them drive it away with trepidation. He wasn't convinced it would be okay to leave her in the hands of some scrawny kid in a vest, (thank god he hadn't brought baby) but this day was about Cas, so he didn’t make a fuss. Just took a deep breath and let it go.

 

The grounds were massive, though, and soon had him distracted. There was a pool that put Gabe’s pool to shame - all pillars and european influenced grandeur. Extravagant marquee’s had been decorated for the catering and guest seating, but the ceremony was set up exposed to the late July sunshine, backdropped by an expanse of seemingly endless and meticulously maintained gardens. Everything was beautifully put together of course, Cas and Anna had been running themselves ragged getting the whole thing organised with all the changes their mom had kept making and Dean could almost strangle the woman without even having met her. But he could understand the inclination to desperately seek your parents approval, even when said parent didn’t deserve five minutes of your time.

 

Something of his awe at their surroundings must have shown in his face because Cas took his hand and nudged him gently with an elbow to the ribs.

‘You okay, Dean?’ Cas, even after two weeks, still only referred to him by his name, though Dean had taken almost immediately to calling Cas the most ridiculous things. Past Dean would’ve kicked his own ass for the total whipping that he was undertaking on a daily basis, but present Dean was so fucking happy he didn’t give a shit. He had someone amazing to wake up to in the morning, to talk to when he was feeling crappy, to make him laugh before a big audition, and to make his body sing in ways that he didn’t even know it sang.

‘Never better, babe.’ He nudged back. ‘Just taking in the modest digs, you know.’

‘Ha!’ Gabriel laughed

‘It is a bit garish, I suppose, when you look at it from the outside.’ Cas said, pulsing his grip on Dean’s fingers and casting a wary eye at the way such an enormous, superfluously expensive house might look to someone who didn’t grow up in it.

‘It’s all Russian Mafia money you know,’ Gabriel told Dean, conspiratorially.

‘No shit!’

‘Shush, you two,’ Cas berated, and Dean had to stifle his laugh at Gabe’s wink. It also didn’t stop Dean from worriedly leaning into Gabe a moment later, as Cas pulled away to check on some flowers, to quietly ask if he should be concerned about being the only non- Krushnic in their group.

‘Actually,’ Gabe said, ‘Cas is the only one of us still a Krushnic - Anna is a Milton and I changed my name to Kay, just to keep a low profile.’ The fact that Gabe felt he needed to keep a low profile from his family, wasn’t particularly comforting to Dean.

 

He wasn’t distracted enough though, not to notice Cas being accosted by a  familiar dark haired, immaculately dressed, Ken doll like figure across the lawns.

‘What. The, _Fuck._ ’ Dean hissed under his breath. Gabe caught on quickly and threw an arm around Dean’s shoulders in commiseration.

‘Yes, he’s not my favourite person either, I have to say, Dean-o.’ And he slapped Dean on the back in solidarity.

‘What is he even _doing_ here?’

‘It’s family business, kiddo. Best to just steer clear of him.’

‘I think maybe he should just steer clear of _Cas_!’

‘Yeah, that too.’

‘What did I miss?’ Anna asked as she sidled up to the boys, obviously having done whatever it was that she had rushed off to do when they’d arrived.

‘Drama!’ Gabriel sang with corresponding eyebrow wiggling. Dean scoffed and didn’t bother to keep his scowl to himself. It took Anna all of three seconds to find the root of the problem fawning all over his boyfriend not ten feet away.

‘Oh, Dean. Michael might be a Cad, but Cassie has never been interested, honestly.’ Anna said with more than a hint of amusement. To be fair, their cavalier attitudes were just pissing him off more.

‘I’m going over there.’ He decided. Anna and Gabriel wisely chose to follow him.

‘How about we all go over there.’ They said, keeping pace for the short distance. Dean fought to keep himself from latching onto Cas in some kind of possessive embrace, aware of not wanting to embarrass Cas here and cause a scene. He was rewarded for his efforts with a blinding smile from Cas as he stepped up by his side.

‘You remember Dean?’ Cas asked as Michael gave him a less than enthusiastic once over.

‘No.’ Michael sniffed indignantly. ‘Are you here with Anna?’ Dean had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from punching the guy in the face. Cas was quick to put his arm through Deans and stroke down to peel his hand from his pocket and grasp it tenderly.

‘Michael, I’m sure I told you about my boyfriend,’ and Dean gleefully watched him wince at the word, ‘It’s why I said you’d finally be free to find a date.’

‘Ah, it’s a shame though,’ Michael lamented, eye twitching, ‘The photo’s of us would have been quite a sight Castiel!’ Sneer gaining momentum, ‘We make a very attractive couple. But I’m sure Dean has other redeeming features.’

‘Oh you are funny Michael,’ Cas said with a bright huff of laughter. ‘Don’t be too upset, you can’t always be the most attractive man in the room.’ The rush of love that Dean felt at that innocent statement, and the look on Michael’s face competed to overwhelm him with joy.

‘Wha-huh?’ Michael said eloquently, clearly confused.

‘There’s no need to be jealous. Normally I’m sure you’re quite eye catching, Michael, but everybody just seems to dim in comparison, when Dean is in the room.’ Cas smiled wistfully. ‘So to speak,’ He clarified, motioning to the sprawling lawns around them. Gabriel ruined the moment by miming vomiting over his shoulder at Cas’ declaration.

‘Gabe,’ Anna hurried to extricate them from their position, ‘get me alcohol. Industrial strength.’ Gabe mock saluted her before spinning and heading to the outdoor Bar. ‘You boys’ she said, heaving an arm over each of their shoulders and pulling them away, ‘let’s go find Queen Hag.’  

‘Way to hit him where it hurts bro, Michael looks devastated.’ Gabe chirped over his shoulder at them.

‘He does?’ Cas asked, confused.

‘You are so clueless sometimes, Cassie.’ Anna said with a wry grin aimed at her twin. Dean just laughed, relieved to realise he wasn’t the only one who sensed the creeper vibe from Michael.

 

The relief dissipated, though, as soon as they closed in on Naomi Krushnic. Cas hung back as Anna and Gabriel offered icy greetings to their mother, barely connecting  kisses to the cheek and a wet grip of fingertips that would make a fish roll its eyes. It didn’t bolster much hope in Dean that Cas would get the kind of unconditional affection that he knew he craved from his mother (it was something they had spoken of, late at night in the safety of their bed and the warm circle of each other’s arms). He could see where Cas and Anna had inherited their blue eyes and high cheekbones, but Naomi had nothing of their brightness, and Dean wondered not for the first time, if Gabe wasn’t mostly responsible for how shielded they had been from her cold shadow. He made a mental note to be a better wingman in Gabe’s near future, provided there was anyone eligible at this party he hadn’t already slept with. He focused his attention back to Cas’ mother and filled his eyes with as much well feigned pleasure as he could assemble.

‘Mother,’ Cas managed to keep his voice low and even.

‘Castiel.’ She replied, somewhat warily.

‘This is Dean.’

Dean held out his hand and Naomi surprised him by taking it in her own and shaking it confidently. ‘Best wishes for today,’ he said carefully, having brushed up on his wedding etiquette for the ceremony.

‘They are appreciated, thank you, Dean.’ She said with the barest hint of a smile. ‘May I steal your date away for a short moment?’

‘Of course,’ Dean scrambled to agree, exchanging a curious shrug with Cas as she turned her back on them, Cas following behind dutifully.  

‘He’ll be okay,’ Anna said quietly into his ear as they all watched the two talk distinctly un-animatedly across the lawn. ‘She won’t say anything hurtful. Not here at least. And she knows how hard he’s been working to make today special for her.’ Dean nodded along without necessarily believing her. Until Cas came back with a giant grin on his face and plastered Dean with a kiss that deserved applause.

‘Babe, what? Did you get your inheritance back or something?’ Dean said, smiling from the fallout of Cas’ obvious joy.

‘Ha! No!’ Cas barked happily (Dean would never get used to how easily Cas could just dismiss the loss of millions of dollars). ‘She said everything looked beautiful, Dean!’ and gripped the lapels of Dean’s jacket to drag him in close, mindful not to squash the flowers. ‘And she said you seemed _nice_!’ Gabe and Anna synchronised their whistle, as if that was a killer compliment.

‘Well,’ Dean said, still slightly mystified by the reaction, but willing to go with it. ‘If you’re happy, I’m happy, gorgeous.’

‘I’m so happy,’ Cas said and kissed him again.

‘Good.’ Dean said softly. ‘Now someone get me a drink please. You’re supposed to be Russian. Where’s the vodka?’ Gabe sidled up to him with a bottle and shot glasses (Dean noticed that these things tended to materialise around Gabriel) and it was the smoothest fucking vodka Dean had ever tasted. He gave his head a little shake and smacked his lips at the strength of it.

Gabe poured a second round and Cas laughed out, ‘Mezhdu pervoy i vtoroy pereryvchik ne bolshoy!’ Which Dean did not understand, but had him feeling pretty hot under the collar. He would definitely be encouraging Cas to speak Russian more often (just maybe not in public). The ceremony was short and more utilitarian, at least in sentiment, than Dean was expecting from the lavish surroundings, but he was pretty happy to have it over with as quickly as possible. The guests mostly left their small group alone, Michael eying them sharply from across the marquee while the (very small but actually delicious) food was carried around.

Cas smiled knowingly at Dean as he turned a tiny canape over in his palm and sighed, leaning over to rest his chin on Dean’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, _pchelka_ , we can stop for burgers on the way home,’ he murmured softly.

‘Pchelka?’ Dean asked, warmth creeping into his cheeks.

Cas grinned and ducked his head, looking back up at Dean through thick, dark, lashes. ‘Yeah,’ he kept his voice low, ‘it means, _little bee_.’ Dean felt his heart skip a beat at the endearment. He tilted Cas’ chin up slowly with two fingers and looked at him, not bothering to hide any of the affection he was feeling in that moment (so much it was ridiculous).

‘Thank you,’ he finally said, and placed a soft kiss at the corner of Cas’ smile.

‘What for?’ he asked, tilting his head slightly in question.

‘For this, for everything.’ Dean gestured between them. ‘For you, I guess.’

‘Well in that case,’ Cas said, taking Dean’s hands, ‘thank you, for you too.’

‘Alright, enough smooching!’ Gabe cried, crashing between them, ‘get up and dance, fuckers!’

‘You’re brother is the biggest cockblock, I swear to god,’ Dean sighed, rolling his eyes.

‘It’s okay, we’ll send him home with one of the guests,’ Cas promised.

‘ _Some_ of the guests!’ Gabe shouted as he dragged them to the makeshift dance floor. Dean tried to shake his head, but couldn’t help but laugh at that statement coming from a man in a gingham shirt and bowtie.

‘Chin up, brother-in-law,’ Anna giggled as she and Cas swung each other in an elaborately cheesy dance move, ‘you’re stuck with us now!’

‘Anna!’ Cas cried, hiding his face in embarrassment. Dean cut in and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

‘She’s probably not wrong, Cas.’ Dean whispered, drawing out his favourite, secret little smile from Cas.

‘You, _Pchelka_ , are just full of surprises today.’

‘Well, you know me, I love weddings.’ Dean said, smiling. Cas slapped him playfully on the shoulder. ‘They’re not so bad, actually,’ He continued in a near whisper, Cas’ head resting on his shoulder as they spun slowly through the throng of other dancers, ‘if I get to spend them with you.’

Dean couldn’t help but feel that it was true, everything just felt right with Cas by his side. And the thought wasn’t even the tiniest bit scary.

Cas was his future and it had never seemed brighter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Mezhdu pervoy i vtoroy pereryvchik ne bolshoy!’ translates roughly to: "No long breaks allowed between the first and second rounds!" which is a typical party toast in Russia (supposedly. I'm no expert).
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> [The Krushnic Pad](https://darter-blue.tumblr.com/image/164243801528)


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